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THE  NATIONAL  SERIES  OF  STANDARD  SCHOOL-BOOKS 

COMPRISES    STANDARD    WORKS 

In  every  department  of  instruction  and  of  every  grade.    The  teacher  in  want  of  a  book  for  any  par- 
ticular purpose  or  class,  will  always  find  the  best  of  its  kind  in  our  catalogue.    No  other  series  even 
claims  to  be  as  complete  as  this.     None  is  so  extensive  or  so  judiciously  selected.    Among  so  many 
volumes  a  high  standard  of  merit  is  maintained,  as  it  is  our  aim  never  to  permit  our  imprint  upon  a 
poor  or  unworthy  book.     It  is  also  our  plan  to  make  books  not  for  a  class  or  sect,  but  for  the  whole 
country — unobjectionable  to  parties^  and  creeds,  while  inculcating  the  great  principles  of  political 
freedom  and  Christianity,  upon  wh^eh  fill  right-minded  persons  are  agreed.    Hence,  and  from  their 
almost  universal  circulation,  the  naibc— *  National  Series."    Among  the  principal  volumes  are 
Parker   &   Watson's  JRea&ers—  in  twoVJUstinct  series,  each  complete  in  itself.    TJie 
National  Headers,  ar  full  grade,,  «r"lal'g6,"elegant  volumes,  adequate  for  every  want  of 
the  most  thorough  and  higrly  graded  sf  hools.     TJie  Independent  Headers,  in  smaller 
volumes,  for  Common  SchofcW.    Low  ia  price,  but  in  no  other  respect  inferior  to  the  companion 
series.    Spellers  complejo,  to  accompany  either  series. 
Davies'  3M!athematic3 — Arithmetic,  Algebra,   Geometry,   Surveying^ 
Ac. — Complete  in  every  hferich — The  Rational  standard — world- renowned.      Millions  have  been 
called  for,  and  the  sale  inoVeasos  year  by  year.    New  volumes  are  constantly  published  to  take 
the  places  of  those  that  arelin  the  least  rWiind  the  times.    Examine  the  new  Series. 

Barnes'  Brief  Histories— TJik  United  States  History  ;  and  others  to  follow. 

— For  one  term  of  study.  Makes  historjt  short  by  omitting  that  which  is  usually  forgotten, 
interesting  by  charming  language  and  illustrations,  and  pointed  Ly  a  system  of  grouping  about 
the  most  important  events.     N°  dry  bones  or  tedious  statistics.  v    ' 

Monteith's  Geographies— Topica\  Descriptive,  Political,  Physical — 
— These  works  are  eminentlyjpractical,  and  enjoyaTarg'bc  circulation  than  any  other  series.  From 
a  number  of  volumes  not  necessarily  consecutive,  the  teaefcer  may  select  just  the  book  he  wants. 

Steele's  Natural  Science  —  "  14    Weeks  V  -Jjiooks    in    Philosophy, 

Chemistry ,  Astronomy,  Geology,  &c. — Briekintense,  popular  bejjond  all  precedent; 

they  make  science  available  for  Common  Schools.  I  X^ 

Clark's  Diagrramma|r»— The  new  system  for  EnKish \rammai,  by  object  lessons  and 

novel  analysis.     Gradually  superseding  all  others. 
Worman's  Modern  I*ang"Ua§"eS»— Comple/e  series  in%he   German,  Trench, 

Ac— Upon  a  new  plan  for  combining  all  the  advantages/offered  by  preceding  authors,  with  signal 

new  ones.  / 

Searing's  G\a.SS\Cs\-Virgil>s  A eneid,  Hefner's Iliad], Cicero's  Orations, 

and  others,  with  Notes,  LeVicons,  Maps,  Illustrations,  Ac. — The  most  complete  and  elegant  editions. 

BARE  MENTION  only  can  be  made  in  this  summary  of  all  the  other  standard  texts  published 
[w\      V  by  our  house,  as  in 

English  language— Cleveland's  Compendiuras  of  Literature— Boyd's  Annotated  Authors, 
Composition,  Logic,  Criticism,  Ac— Smith's  Etymology,  from  every  sourre~of  language— De- 
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end's  Series  of  Speakers— Z^achos'  Elocution,  Ac.  ^^*»**0' 

History.— Monteith's  Child's  U.  S.— Mrs.  Willard'S  Series;  U.  S.  and  Universal— Berard's 
England— Ricord's  Rome— Summary  of  Hist.,  i^fi  10J  pages— Bible  Hist.— Ecclesiastical  Hist. 

Pen  and  Pencil .—  Beers'  Round-hand  Penmanship— Copy-book  Cover— National  Steel  Pens 
—Smith  A  Martin's  Bookkeeping — Chapman's  Drawing  Book— Drawing  Cards — Allen's  Map 
Drawing.  ^^^Ht      J  /  \ 

Natural  (Science— Norton  A  Porter's  First  Book— Peck's  Ganot's  Philosophy— Porter's 
Chemistry— McIntyre's  Astronomy— Pang's  Geology— Jarvis'  Physiology— Wood's  Botany— 
Chambers'  Zoology— Peck's  Mechanics-*BARTLETT"s  College  Philosophy. 

Important  Worlcs  also  are  Pujol's  French  Class  Book— Dwight's  Mythology— Hunting- 
ton's  Fine  Arts— Champlin's  Political  Economy— Mansfield's  Government  Manual— Alden's 
Ethics— Brooks'  Manual  of  Devotiou— Tracy's  School  Record,  Ac. 

The  Teacher's  library  consists  of  over  29  volumes  of  strictly  professional  literature,  as  Pace's 
Theory  and  Practice— Holbrook's  Normal  Methods— Northknd's  Teacher's  Assistant,  Ac. 


A  DESCRIPTIVE  CATALOGUE  of  all  these  and  many  more  may  be  obtained  by  enclosing 
stamp  to  the  Publishers, 

A.  3.  BARNES  &  COMPANY, 

National  Educational  Publishers, 
111   &  113  WILLIAM  STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


THE  WOMAN  SERIES  IN  MODEEN  LANGUAGE. 

A  Complete  Course  in  German. 

By  JAMES  H.  WORMAN,  AM. 

EMBRACING 

ELEMENTARY  GERMAN  GRAMMAR, 

COMPLETE  GERMAN  GRAMMAR, 
^V  GERMAN  READER, 

GERMAN  COP^^OOKS,       GERMAN  ECHO. 

*"-*>m  PREPARATION,  \ 

HISTORY    OIF    GERMAN    LITERATURE, 

GERMAN  tAND    ENGLISH  XEXICON. 

J.  THE  GERMAN  GRAMMARS  of  Worman  are  widely' preferred  on  ac- 
count of  their  clear,  explicit  method  (oh  the  conversation  plan),  introducing  a  system 
of  analogy  and  comparison  with  the  learners1  own  language  and  others  commonly 
studied.  •* 

The  arts  of  speaking,  of  understanding  the  spoken  language,  and  of  correct  pronun- 
ciation, are  treated  Wich  great  success. 

The  new  classifications  of  nouns  and  of  irregular  verbs  are  of  great  value  to  the 

£upil.    The  use  of  lieavy  type  to  indicate  etymological  changes,  is  new.    The  Vocabu- 
,ry  is  synonymical—alzo  a  new  feature. 

JT.  WORM  AX'S  GERMAN  READER  contains  progressive  selections 
from  a  wide  range  of  the  very  best  German  authors,  including  three  complete  plays, 
which  are  usually  purchased  in  separate  form  for  advanced  students  who  have  com- 
pleted the  ordinary  Reader.  * 

It  has  Biographies  of  eminent  authors,  Notes  after  the  text,  References  to  all  Ger- 
man Grammars  in  common  use,  and  an  adequate  Vocabulary;  also,  Exercises  for 
translation  into  the  German. 

III.  WORMAN'S  GERMAN  ECHO  (Deutsche*  Echo)  is  entirely  a  new 
thing  in  this  country.  It  presents  familiar  colloquial  exercises  without  translation, 
and  will  teach  fluent  conversation  in  a  few  months  of  diligent  study. 

No  other  method  will  ever  make  the  student  at  Itome  in  a  foreign  language.  By  this 
he  thinks  in,  as  well  as  speaks  it.  For  the  time  being  he  is  a  German  through  and 
through.  The  laborious  process  of  translating  his  thoughts  no  longer  impedes  free 
unembarrassed  utterance. 


WOMAN'S  COMPLETE  FBENCH  COURSE 

IS  INAUGURATED  BY 

L'EOHO     IDE      PARIS, 

Or,  "  French  Echo  ;*'  on  a  plan  identical  with  the  German  Echo  described  above. 
This  will  be  followed  in  due  course  by  the  other  volumes  of 

THE   FRENCH   SERIES, 
viz.: 
A  COMPLETE  GRAMMAR,  \A    FRENCH    READER, 

AN  ELEMENTARY  GRAMMA Tt,  I  A    FRENCH    LEXICON 
A  HISTORY  OF  FRENCH  LITERATURE 


WORMAN'S    WORKS 

are  adopted  as  fast  as  published  by  many  of  the  best  institutions  of  the  country.    In 
completeness,  adaptation,  and  homogeneity  for  consistent  courses  of  instruction,  they 

are  simply 

UNRIVALED. 


14  And  when  the  hiding  squirrel's  nest 

They  sought,  far  up  the  hills, 
They  bathed  their  reeking  foreheads  cool 

Among  the  mountain  rills/' 

Childebn  in  Exilr,  p.  186. 


THE 


NATIONAL 


THIRD    READER: 


CONTAINING 

A  SIMPLE,   COMPREHENSIVE,   AND    PRACTICAL    TREATISE    ON 
ELOCUTION;  NUMEROUS  AND  PROGRESSIVE  EXERCISES 
IN    READING    AND    RECITATION;    AND    COPIOUS 
NOTES,   ON    THE    PAGES  WHERE    EXPLA- 
NATIONS   ARE     REQUIRED. 


By   RICHAED    GREENE    PARKER 

AND 

J.    MADISON    WATSON. 


A.    S.    BARNES    AND    COMPANY, 

NEW  YORK  AND   CHICAGO. 

1873 


EDUCATION  DEPI* 


y 


COMPLETE  IN  TWO  INDEPENDENT  PARTS. 


THE  NATIONAL  READERS. 

By   PARKER   &   WATSON. 

No.   1. — National  Primer, 6%  pp.,  ?6mo. 

No.  2. — National  First  Reader,  .  .  tzspp.,  /6mo. 
No.  3. — National  Second  Reader,  .  221  pp.,  femo. 
No.  4. — National  Third  Reader,  .  .  2sspp.,  /2mo. 
No.  5. — National  Fourth  Reader,  .  4.32 pp.,  ?2mo. 
No.  6. — National  Fifth  Reader,    .    .  600  pp.,  ?2mo. 

II. 
THE  INDEPENDENT  READERS. 

By  J.    MADISON    WATSON. 

The  Independent  First  Reader,  . 
The  Independent  ^eeont^  iRe;aHer, 
The  Independent* Thrrii  Reader, 
The  Independent; Fourth:  Reader, 
The  Independent  "Fifth  Reader/. 
The  National  Fifth  Reader,  .    .    . 


SO  pp. ,  /6mo. 
760  pp.,  16mo. 
24.0  pp.,  16mo. 
264- pp.,  f2mo. 
3.96 pp.,  ?2mo. 
600  pp.,  12mo. 


III. 


NATIONAL  SPELLING  BOOKS. 

By  J.    MADISON   WATSON. 

National  Elementary  Speller,  .    .    .  /60pp.,  t6mo. 
National  Pronouncing  Speller,   .    .  ^ss  pp.,  tamo. 


***  The  Readers  constitute  two  complete  and.  entirely  dis- 
tinct series,  either  of  which  are  adequate  to  every  want  of 
the  best  schools.     The  Spellers  may  accompany  either  Series 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 

A.     S.     BARNES    &     CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District 

pf  New  York. 


PREFACE 


IT  has  been  our  purpose,  in  the  preparation  of  this  vol- 
ume, to  furnish  the  facilities  necessary  for  the  cultivation 
and  improvement  of  the  voice,  and  the  acquisition  of  skill 
in  Beading  and  Delivery.  Though  constituting  one  of  a 
Series  of  Headers,  this  work  will  be  found  complete  in 
itself. 

The  Introductory  Lessons'  in  Part  First  present,  in  a 
simple,  comprehensive,  and  practical  form,  all  the  most 
important  principles  of  Elocution,  embracing  Sections  on 
Articulation,  Syllabication,  Accent,  Emphasis,  Slur,  Inflec- 
tions, and  Punctuation. 

Part  Second  contains  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  Exer- 
cises for  Heading  and  Recitation.  In  the  collection  and 
preparation  of  these  Exercises,  great  pains  have  been  taken 
to  exclude  pieces  not  suited  to  the  standing  of  the  pupils 
for  whom  they  are  designed,  and  to  retain  only  those  that 
will  be  found  intelligible,  not  only  from  the  nature  of  the 
subjects,  but  also  from  the  style  and  manner  in  which  they 
are  written. 

It  has  been  our  aim  to  present  such  lessons  as  would 
amuse,  interest,  and  instruct  the  pupil,  and  at  the  same 
time  furnish  examples  illustrating  the  more  important  prin- 
ciples of  Rhetorical  Delivery.  As  an  almost  indispensable 
auxiliary  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  desirable  object, 
we  have  introduced  numerous  dialogues  and  pieces  of  a 
conversational  nature. 

It  is  a  collection  strictly  graded  from  first  to  last     Com- 

■ W451G5 


Vi  PREFACE. 

mencing  with  lessons  more  simple  than  those  at  the  close 
of  the  "Second  Beader,"  the  pupil  will  gradually  and 
almost  unconsciously  overcome  difficulties  as  he  proceeds, 
and  at  its  close  will  be  thoroughly  prepared  for  the  suc- 
ceeding volume. 

The  pronunciation  of  words  liable  to  be  mispronounced 
is  indicated  in  all  cases ;  and  notes  explanatory  of  words 
and  phrases  not  supposed  to  be  fully  understood  by  the 
pupil,  appear  at  the  bottom  of  the  pages  where  they  occur. 

The  improvements  made  in  the  revision  of  this  work  are 
many  and  important.  The  addition  of  a  thorough  though 
simple  Analysis  of  Words  and  of  Phonetic  Exercises  to  the 
section  on  Articulation,  and  the  introduction  of  new  sec- 
tions on  Slur  and  Inflections,  as  well  as  the  marked  changes 
in  general,  have  rendered  the  Introductory  Lessons  all  that 
can  be  desired  for  intermediate  classes. 

The  collection  of  Beading  Lessons  has  been  greatly  im- 
proved by  judicious  omissions,  and  by  the  introduction  of 
a  number  of  the  most  interesting  and  deservedly  popular 
recent  productions,  both  in  prose  and  verse.  The  classifi- 
cation of  these  Lessons  is  more  systematic  and  thorough 
than  that  ever  before  attempted  in  any  corresponding  work. 
The  pieces  are  divided  into  formal  sections  in  each  of  which 
only  one  leading  subject  is  treated,  or  one  important  ele- 
ment of  Elocution  rendered  prominent.  It  is  confidently 
believed  that  all  practical  aids  are  furnished  by  the  orthoep- 
ical  notation,  the  index  to  words  defined  and  words  pro- 
nounced, the  superior  wood-cuts,  and  the  copious  notes. 

New  Yokk,  August,  1865. 


CONTENTS 


I.    INTRODUCTORY  LESSONS. 

PAGE 

Articulation 13 

Definitions 13 

Oral  Elements 15 

Cognates 17 

Alphabetical  Equivalents > 17 

Oral  Elements  Combined 19 

Errors  in  Articulation 21 

Analysis  of  Words 22 

Rules  in  Articulation 23 

Exercises  in  Articulation 24 

Syllabication 25 

Exercises  in  Syllabication 25 

Accent 26 

Exercises  in  Accent 27 

Emphasis 27 

Exercises  in  Emphasis 27 

Slur 28 

Exercises  in  Slur 29 

Inflections §0 

Exercises  in  Inflections i 31 

Marks  Used  in  Printing 32 

General  Exercises 35 

II.  KEADINGS  AND  EECITATIONS.    . 

I.  PIECES  IN  PROSE. 

Section  1 39 

1.  A  Gentleman ....T.S.  Arthur.  39 

2.  True  Riches Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney.  40 

3.  God  i3  Everywhere T.  S.  Arthur.  43 

4.  The  Willow,  Poppy,  and  Violet Mrs.  L.H.  Sigourney.  44 

5.  The  Good  are  Beautiful T.  S.  Arthur.  46 

Section  III -    54 

10.  The  Tortoise  and  the  Swallow 54 

12.  The  Horse  and  the  Goose r :  57 

14.  Class  Opinions 60 

Section  IV PI 

15.  The  Beggar  and  the  Good  Boy Mrs.  Goodwin.  61 

17.  The  True  Secret  of  Happiness— Part  First T.  S.  Arthur.  66 

18.  The  True  Secrerof  Happiness — Part  Second 67 

20.  The  Pilgrim  and  the  Rich  Knight Mrs.  St.  Simon.  71 

Section  V 72 

22.  The  Summer-time 73 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

PA6B 

Section  VI 78 

25.  The  Twin  Sisters Mrs.  L.  H.  JSigaurney.  78 

26.  Emulation  without  Envy Miss  Edgeworth.  80 

27.  How  to  be  Happy — Part  First 81 

28.  How  to  be  Happy— Part  Second 83 

29.  Knock  Again— Part  First 84 

30.  Knock  Again — Part  Second 86 

31.  Sir  Edmund  Saunders Emma  G.  Embury.  88 

32.  Counsels  to  the  Young Horace  Mann.  90 

33.  The  Whistle Dr.  Franklin.  92 

Section  VII. ... 93 

35.  Chase  of  the  Pet  Fawn Miss  Cooper.    95 

38.   The  Child  is  Dead 8.1.  Prime.  103 

Section  VIII , 108 

41.  Disobedience 108 

42.  The  Two  Schoolmates 110 

43.  The  Foster-Child— Part  First. ...... .  .Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney.  Ill 

44.  The  Foster-Child— Part  Second. 113 

46.  An  Eastern  Fable 116 

Section  X " 123 

51.  The  Half  is  Better  than  the  Whole 123 

52.  The  Boy  who  Kept  his  Purpose— Part  First 126 

53.  The  Boy  who  Kept  his  Purpose— Part  Second 128 

54.  Anecdote  of  Frederick  the  Great 130 

55.  Humanity  Rewarded Emma  C.  Embury.  131 

56.  The  Basket-Maker 132 

57.  Work  Proclaims  a  Workman 134 

Section  XI 136 

59.  The  Daisy  and  the  Lark — Part  First Hans.  C.  Andersen.  137 

60.  The  Daisy  and  the  Lark— Part  Second. 130 

Section  XII 143 

63.  The  Mocking-Bird 144 

65.  Birds  of  Australia — Part  First William  Howitt.  147 

66.  Birds  of  Australia — Part  Second 150 

67.  The  Buzzard Comstock.  153 

Section  XIII 156 

68.  Thanksgiving  Story Fanny  Fern,  156 

Section  XIV 163 

72.  Ingenuity  and  Industry  Rewarded Berquin.  163 

73.  Planting  Trees Newcomb.  166 

Section  XVII 188 

84.  Honesty  the  Best  Policy 188 

85.  The  Truthful  Little  Persian 190 

86.  Two  Ways  of  Telling  a  Story— Part  First H.  K.  Oliver.   192 

87.  Two  Ways  of  Telling  a  Story— Part  Second 193 

88.  A  Man  is  a  Man Toliver.  195 

Section  XVIII 196 

92.  The  Flax  ;  or  the  Story  of  a  Life— Part  First  ...H.C.  Andersen.  200 

93.  The  Flax ;  or  the  Story  cf  a  Life— Part  Second 203 

Section  XIX 206 

94  Autumn 206 

Section  XX 21 1 

97.  Two  Neighbors  and  the  Hens 211 


CONTENTS.  ix 

PAGE 

Section  XXI 217 

101.  The  Observing  Judge— Part  First 217 

102.  The  Observing  Judge— Part  Second 219 

103.  The  Observing  Judge— Part  Third 221 

Section  XXIII. 253 

117.  The  Snow-Storm— Part  First Altered  from  Wilson.  256 

118.  The  Snow-Storm— Part  Second 258 

119.  The  Snow-Storm— Part  Third 261 

Section  XXIV 265 

121.  The  Little  Man  in  Black — Part  First Washington  Irving.  267 

122.  The  Little  Man  in  Black— Part  Second 273 

II.    PIECES    IN    VERSE. 

Section  II 47 

6.  The  Voice  of  Spring Mary  Howitt.  47 

7.  Spring H.F.Gould.  48 

8.  Spring  Rain 50 

9.  The  Rain-Lesson Mrs.  L.  H  Sigourney.  52 

Section  III 54 

11.   The  Rook  and  the  Lark 56 

13.  The  Bee,  Clover,  and  Thistle H.  1   Gould.    58 

Section  IV 61 

16.   The  Beggar-Man Lucy  Aikin.    63 

19.   The  Complaints  of  the  Poor Southev.     70 

Section  V 72 

21.   The  Child's  Wish  in  June Mrs.  Gilman.  72 

23.  The  Wheat-Field H  F.  Gould.  75 

24.  Summer  Woods Mary  Howitt.  76 

Section  VII y3 

34.  We  are  Seven William  Wordsworth.  93 

36.  Lucy  Gray William  Wordsworth.  98 

37.  The  Little  Boy  that  Died J.  D.  Robinson.  101 

39.  Eva's  Home Altered  from  Lytton.  105 

40.  The  Child  and  the  Mourners CMrles  Mackay.  106 

Section  VIII 108 

45.   The  Crop  of  Acorns Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney.  115 

47.  The  Old  Oaken  Bucket Samuel  Woodworth.  118 

Section  IX 120 

48.  Delay From  the  German  of  Weisse.  120 

49.  One  by  One 121 

50.  Now,  To-day Adelaide  A.  Procter.  122 

Section  XI 136 

58o  Children  in  Exile J.  T.  Fields.  136 

Section  XII 143 

62.   The  Mocking-Bird Hannah  F  Gould.  143 

64  Birds  in  Summer Mary  Howitt.  145 

Section  XIII 156 

69    The  Sale  of  the  Pet  Lamb Mary  Howitt.  157 

70.  Cleon  and  I Charles  Mackay.  160 

71.  The  Heritage J.  R.  Lowell,  161 


3C  CONTENTS. 

t>AGB 

Section  XIV 163 

74  The  Planting  of  the  Apple  Tree Wm.  Cullen  Bryant.  168 

Section  XV 171 

75.  The  Brook Alfred  Tennyson.  171 

76.  Little  Streams Mary  Howitt.  178 

77.  The  Wind  and  the  Stream William  Cullen  Bryant.  175 

78.  The  Bird  and  the  Fountain Charlotte  Young.  176 

Section  XVIII 196 

89.  The  Stranger  on  the  Sill T.  Buchanan  Bead.  196 

90.  I  Remember,  I  Remember Thomas  Hood.  198 

91.  Little  at  First,  but  Great  at  Last diaries  Mackay.  199 

Section  XIX 206 

95.  Cornfields Mary  Howitt.  208 

96.  To  Autumn John  Keats.  209 

Section  XX 211 

98.  Trade  and  Spade Charles  Mackay.  212 

100.  The  Battle  of  Blenheim Bobert  Southey.  215 

Section  XXI ,  217 

104   The  King  and  the  Cottager John  G.  Saxe.  224 

107.  Wisdom  Unapplied Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning.  235 

Section  XXII 244 

110.   The  Mountain  Boy Uhland.  244 

1X1.  Excelsior H.  W.  Longfellow.  245 

112.  The  Color-Sergeant 247 

113.  The  Boy  in  the  Wilderness George  H  Boker.  249 

114.  Song  of  Marion's  Men William  Cullen  Bryant.  251 

Section  XXIII 253 

115.  Winter  and  Spring Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow.  253 

116.  The  Snow-Shower William  Cullen  Bryant.  254 

Section  XXIV 265 

120.   Youth  and  Sorrow Charles  Mackay.  265 

123.   The  May  Queen— Part  First Alfred  Tennyson.  277 

124   The  May  Queen— Part  Second 279 

125.  The  May  Queen— Part  Third 282 

III.     DIALOGUES 

Section  XI 136 

61.   The  Adopted  Child Mrs.  Felicia  Hermans.  141 

Section  XVI 177 

79.  Who  is  Greatest— Part  First Altered  from  Arthur.  177 

80.  Who  is  Greatest— Part  Second 179 

81.  Rain-Making Altered  from  Livingstone.  181 

82.  The  Evil  Adviser— Part  First Goodrich.  184 

83.  The  Evil  Adviser— Part  Second 185 

Section  XX 213 

99.  Things  by  their  Right  Names 213 

Section  XXI 217 

105.  Hasty  Judgment— Part  First 227 

106.  Hasty  Judgment — Part  Second 232 

108.  Eyes,  or  no  Eyes— Part  First Dr.  Aiken.  237 

109.  Eyes,  or  no  Eyes— Part  Second . , 241 


INTRODUCTORY    LESSONS. 


I.    ARTICULATION. 


DEFINITIONS. 

ARTICULATION  is  the  distinct  utterance  of  the  oral 
elements  in  syllables  and  words. 

2.  Okal  Elements  are  the  sounds  that,  uttered  separately 
or  in  combination,  form  syllables  and  words. 

3.  Okal  Elements  are  produced  by  different  positions 
of  the  organs  of  speech,  in  connection  with  the  voice  and 
the  breath. 

4.  The  principal  Organs  op  Speech  are  the  lips,  the 
teeth,  the  tongue,  and  the  palate. 

5.  Yoice  is  produced  by  the  action  of  the  breath  upon 
the  larynx.  * 

6.  Oral  Elements  are  divided  into  three  classes: 
eighteen  tonics,  fifteen  subtonics,  and  ten  atonics. 

7.  Tonics  are  pure  tones  produced  by  the  voice,  with  but 
slight  use  of  the  organs  of  speech. 

8.  Subtonics  are  tones  produced  by  the  voice,  modified 
by  the  organs  of  speech. 

1  Larynx. — The  upper  part  of  the  five  gristly  pieces  which  form  the 
trachea  or  windpipe,  consisting  of     organ  of  voice. 


U  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

9.  Atonics  are  mere  breathings,  modified  by  the  organs 
of  speech. 

10.  Letters  are  characters  that  are  used  to  represent  01 
modify  the  oral  elements. 

11.  The  Alphabet  is  divided  into  vowels  and  consonants. 

12.  Vowels  are  the  letters  that  usually  represent  the 
tonia  elements.     They  are  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  and  sometimes  y.  x 

13.  A  Diphthong  is  the  union  of  two  vowels  in  one  sylla- 
ble j  a.-:,  ou  in  our. 

14.  A  Digraph,  or  Improper  Diphthong,  is  the  union  of 
two  vowels  in  a  syllable,  one  of  which  is  silent ;  as,  oa  in 
loaf,  ou  in  court. 

15.  A  Triphthong  is  the  union  of  three  vowels  in  one 
syllable ;  as,  eau  in  heau,  ieu  in  adieu. 

16.  Consonants2  are  the  letters  that  usually  represent 
either  subtonic  or  atonic  elements.  They  are  of  two  kinds, 
single  letters  and  combined,  including  all  the  letters  of  the 
alphabet,  except  the  vowels,  and  the  combinations  ch,  sh, 
wh,  ng  ;  th  subtonic,  and  th  atonic. 

17.  Labials  are  letters  whose  oral  elements  are  chiefly 
formed  by  the  lips.  They  are  b,  p,  w,  and  wh.  M  may  be 
regarded  as  a  nasal  labial,  as  its  sound  is  affected  by  the 
nose.     F  and  v  are  labia-dentals. 

18.  Dentals  are  letters  whose  oral  elements  are  chiefly 
formed  by  the  teeth.     They  a>rej,  s,  z,  ch,  and  sh. 

19.  Linguals  are  letters  whose  oral  elements  are  chiefly 
formed  by  the  tongue.  They  are  d,  I,  r,  and  t.  N  is  a  nasal- 
lingual  ;  y,  a  lingua-palatal,  and  th,  a  lingua-dentaL 

20.  Palatals  are  letters  whose  oral  elements  are  chiefly 
formed  by  the  palate.  They  are  g  and  Jc.  NG  i»  a  nasal- 
palatal. 

1  W  not  a  Vowel. — As  w,  stand-  combinations  because  they  are  rarely 

ing  alone,  does  not  represent  a  pure  used  in  words  without  having  a  vow- 

or  unmodified  tone  in  the  English  el  connected  with  them  in  the  same 

language,  it  is  nci  here  classified  syllable,  although  their  oral  elements 

with  the  vowels.  may  be  uttered  separately,  and  with- 

'  Consonant. — The   term   conso-  out  the  aid  of  a  vowel.    Indeed,  they 

riant,    literally    meaning    sounding  frequently  form  syllables  by  them- 

tiUfi,  is  applied  to  these  letters  and  selves,  as  in  fechlc  (W),  taken  (kn\ 


ORAL    ELEMENTS.  15 

21.  Cognates  are  letters  whose  oral  elements  are  pro- 
duced by  the  same  organs,  in  a  similar  manner ;  thus,  /  is 
a  cognate  of  v  ;  h  of  g,  &c. 

22.  Alphabetic  Equivalents  are  letters,  or  combinations 
of  letters,  that  represent  the  same  elements,  or  sounds ; 
thus,  i  is  an  equivalent  of  e,  in  pzque. 

II. 
OEAL   ELEMENTS. 

IN  uttering  the  tonics,  the  organs  of  speech  should  be 
fully  opened,  and  the  stream  of  sound  from  the  throat 
should  be  thrown,  as  much  as  possible,  directly  upward 
against  the  roof  of  the  mouth.  It  is  important  to  produce 
the  subtonics  and  atonies  with  great  force,  prolonging  the 
sound  sufficiently  to  give  it  a  full  impression  on  the  ear. 

The  instructor  will  first  require  the  pupils  to  pronounce 
a  catch-word  once,  and  then  produce  the  oral  element  rep- 
resented by  the  figured  vowel,  or  italic  consonant,  four 
times — thus  ;  age, — a,  a,  a,  a ;  ate, — a,  a,  a,  a  :  at,— -a,  a,  a, 
a ;  ash, — a,  a,  a,  a,  &c.  He  will  exercise  the  class  until 
each  pupil  can  utter  consecutively  all  the  elementary  sounds 
as  arranged  in  the  following 

TABLE    OF    ORAL    ELEMENTS. 


I. 

TONICS. 

a 

or  a,1 

as  in 

age, 

ate. 

a, 

as  in 

all, 

ban. 

a 

or  a, 

u 

at, 

land. 

a,2 

a 

bare, 

care. 

a, 

u 

art, 

arm. 

V 

« 

ask, 

glass. 

1  Long  and   Short  Vowels.—  Alphabetic  sound,  modified  or  soft 

The  attention  of  the  class  should  be  ened  by  r.    In  its  production,  th3 

■  called  to  the  fact  that  the  first  ele-  lips,  placed  nearly  together,  are  held 

uient,  or  sound,  represented  by  each  immovable  while  the  student  tries 

of  the  vowels,  is  usually  indicated  to  say,  a. 

by  a  horizontal  line  placed  over  the  3  A   Sixth. — The    sixth    element 

letter,  and  the  second  sound  by  a  represented  by  a,  is  a  sound  interme- 

curved  line.  diate  between  a,  as  heard  in  at,  and 

3  A  Fifth. — The  fifth  element,  or  a,  as  in  arm..    It  is  produced  by  pro 

t)ound,  represented  by  a,  is  its  first  or  longing  and  slightly  softening  a. 


16 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 


e  or  e, 

as  in  he, 

these. 

6  or  5,a 

as  in  on, 

fr&t 

e  or  S, 

"    elk, 

end. 

o, 

"     d«, 

pr6ve. 

V 

"     Mr, 

ve'rse. 

u  or  u, 3 

?     cube. 

cure. 

i  or  I, 

"     ice, 

child. 

u  or  ii, 

"     bud, 

hiish. 

i  or  I, 

"     Ink, 

inch. 

*, 

"      full, 

push. 

6  or  6, 

"    61d, 

home. 

on, 

"        OUT, 

house. 

n.     SUBTONICS. 

h,     as  in 

babe, 

or5.- 

r,« 

as  in 

rake, 

bar. 

d,    « 

did, 

dim.. 

fh, 

« 

this, 

with. 

9,       " 

9*0> 

gfy. 

^ 

a 

vine, 

vice. 

h       " 

join, 

^'oint. 

w, 

« 

wake, 

wise. 

h       " 

Zake, 

Zane. 

ft 

a 

yard, 

yes. 

m,     " 

mild, 

mind. 

«i 

a 

zest, 

gaze. 

n,       « 

name, 

nine. 

z, 

a 

azure, 

glazier. 

»9,     " 

gang, 

swig. 

*E  Third.— The  third  element 
represented  by  e,  is  e  as  heard  in  end, 
prolonged,  and  modified  or  softened 
by  r.  This  oral  element  is  found  in 
monosyllables,  or  in  accented  sylla- 
bles in  which  the  r  is  not  followed 
by  a  vowel  or  by  another  r,  or  in 
words  derived  from  these,  when  the 
syllable  retains  its  accent,  as  in 
herd,  err,  erring,  maternal. 

2  O  modified. — The  modified  oral 
element  of  o,  in  this  work,  is  repre- 
sented by  (6  or  6)  the  same  marks  as 
its  regular  second  power.  This  mod- 
ified or  medium  element  may  be  pro- 
duced by  uttering  the  sound  of  o  in 
not,  slightly  softened,  with  twice  its 
usual  volume,  or  prolongation.  It  is 
usually  given  when  short  o  is  imme- 
diately followed  byff,ft,  ss,  st,  or  th, 
as  in  off,  soft,  cross,  cost,  broth  ;  also 
in  a  number  of  words  where  short  o 
is  directly  followed  by  n,  or  final 
ngy  as  in  gone,  bego7ie,*  long,  silong, 


^rong,  song,  strong,  thong,  throng, 
wrong.  Smart  says,  "  To  give  the 
extreme  short  sound  of  o  to  such 
words  is  affectation  ;  to  give  them 
the  full  sound  of  broad  a  (a  in  all), 
is  vulgar. 

3  U  initial — preceded  by  R. — 
TJ,  at  the  beginning  of  words,  when 
long,  has  the  sound  of  yu,  as  in  use. 

"When  u  long,  or  its  alphabetic  equiv- 
alent ew,  is  preceded  by  r,  or  the 
sound  of  sh,  in  the  same  syllable,  it 
has  always  the  sound  of  o  in  do  ;  as, 
rude,  sure,  brew. 

4  R  trilled. — In  triUing  r,  the  tip 
of  the  tongue  is  made  to  vibrate 
against  the  rcof  of  the  mouth.  It 
may  be  trilled  when  immediately 
followed  by  a  vowel  in  the  same 
syllable.  When  thus  situated  in 
emphatic  words,  it  should  always  be 
trilled.  Frequently  require  the  stu- 
dent, after  a  full  inhalation,  to  trill 
r  continuously,  as  long  as  possible. 


ALPHABETICAL    EQUIVALENTS. 


17 


m.      ATONICS. 

/, 

as  in 

fame, 

/&* 

t,     as  in 

£ar£, 

tOSL&L 

A, 

a 

Aark, 

harm. 

th,      " 

tfAank, 

youth. 

*, 

a 

&ind, 

#iss. 

ch,      " 

cAase, 

marcA. 

P> 

a 

pipe, 

pump. 

sh,      " 

sAade, 

*Aake. 

*> 

u 

same, 

sense. 

wh,1  " 

whale, 

wAite. 

III. 

COGNATES. 

FIKST  require  the  student  to  pronounce  distinctly  the 
word  containing  the  atonic  element,  then  the  subtonic 
cognate,  uttering  the  element  after  each  word — thus :  lip,  p  ; 
orb,  b,  &c.  The  attention  of  the  pupil  should  be  called  to 
the  fact  that  cognates  are  produced  by  the  same  organs,  in 
a  similar  manner,  and  only  differ  in  one  being  an  under- 
tone, and  the  other  a  whisper. 

ATONICS.  SUBTONICS. 

lip,        p orb,  b. 

fife,     f>       vase,  v. 

ttfAite,   wh wise,  w, 

save,     s. zeal,  z. 

shade,  sh azure,  z. 

charm,  ch .  join,  j. 

taxt,      t did,  d. 

thing,    th this,  th. 

&n&>    * gig,      g. 


IV. 

ALPHABETICAL   EQUIVALENTS. 

fT^HE  instructor  will  require  the  students  to  read  or  re* 

JL    cite  the  Table  of  Alphabetic  Equivalents,  using  the 

following  formula  :  The  Alphabetic  Equivalents  of  A  first 

1  Wh.'-To  produce  the  oral  ele-  compressing  the  lips,  and  then  sud- 
ment  of  wh,  the  student  will  blow  denly  relaxing  them  while  the  air  is 
from  the  center  of  the  mouth — first    escaping. 


18  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

'power  are  ai,  au,  ay,  e,  ea,  ee,  ei,  ey  ;  as  in  the  words,  gam, 
gauge,  stray,  meZee',  great,  vein,  they. 

I.      TONIC  ELEMENTS. 

For  a,  a%  au,  ay,  e,  ea,  ee,  ei,  ey  J  as  in  gain,  gauge,  stray t 
melee',  great,  vein,  they. 

For  a,  ai,  ua ;  as  in  plaid,  guaranty. 

For  a,  au,  e,  ea,  ua/  as  in  haunt,  sergeant,  heart,  guard. 

For  a,  au,  aw,  eo,  o,  oa,  ou  f  as  in  fault,  hawk,  George, 
cork,  broad,  bought. 

For  a,  aa,  ai,  e,  ea,  ei  /  as  in  ^Laron,  chair,  there,  swear, 
heir. 

For  e,  ea,  ee,  ei,  eo,  ey,  i,  ie  f  as  in  read,  deep,  ceil,  people, 
key,  valise,  field. 

For  e,  a,  ai,  ay,  ea,  ei,  eo,  ie,  u,  ue  /  as  in  any,  said,  says, 
head,  heifer,  leopard,  friend,  bary,  gwess. 

For  £,  ea,  i,  o,  ou,  u,  ue,  y  y  as  in  earth,  girl,  word,  scourge, 
burn,  guerdon,  myrrh. 

For  i,  ai,  ei,  eye,  ie,  oi,  ui,  uy,  y,  ye  /  as  in  aisle,  sleight, 
eye,  die,  choir,  guide,  buy,  my,  rye. 

For  !,  ai,  e,  ee,  ie,  o,  oi,  u,  ui,  y  •  as  in  captain,  pretty, 
been,  sieve,  women,  tortoise,  bwsy,  biiild,  hymn. 

For  6,  au,  eau,  eo,  ew,  oa,  oe,  oo,  ou,  ow  /  as  in  hautboy, 
bean,  yeoman,  sew,  coal,  fje,  door,  soul,  blow. 

For  6,  a,  ou,  ow  ;  as  in  what,  hough,  knowledge. 

For  6,  ew,  oe,  oo,  ou,  u,  uij  as  in  grew,  shoe,  spoon,  soun, 
rwde,  fruit. 

lor  u,  eau,  eu,  ew,  ieu,  iew,  ue,  ui ;  as  in  beauty,  fend, 
new,  adieu,  view,  hue,  juice. 

For  u,  o,  oe,  oo,  ou  /  as  in  love,  does,  blood,  yonng. 

For  u,  o,  oo,  ou  /  wolf,  book,  could. 

For  ou,  oio  /  as  in  now. 

For  oi  (ai),  oy  /  as  in  boy. 

n.      SUBTONIC  AND  ATONIC  ELEMENTS. 

For  i,  gh,  ph  /  as  in  cough,  nymph. 
For  j,  g  /  as  in  gem,  oin. 


ORAL    ELEMENTS    COMBINED.  19 

For  k,  c,  ch,  gh,  q  ;  as  in  cole,  conch,  lough,  etiquette. 
For  s,  c  ;  as  in  cell. 

For  t,  d,  th,  jphth  ;  as  in  danced,  TAames,  phthisic. 
For  v,  f,  ph  /  as  in  of,  Stephen. 
For  y,  i;  as  in  pinion. 
For  z,  c,  s,  x  J  as  in  suffice,  rose,  a?ebec. 
For  z,  g,  s  /  as  in  rouge,  osier. 
For  ng,  n  /  as  in  awger,  bank. 
For  ch,  if  as  in  fustian. 

For  sh,  c,  ch,  s,  ss,  t;  as  in  ocean,  cAaise,  sure,  assure, 
martial. 

V. 
OEAL    ELEMENTS    COMBINED. 

AFTEB  the  instructor  has  given  a  class  thorough  drill 
on  the  preceding  tables,  the  following  exercises  will 
be  found  of  great  value,  to  improve  the  organs  of  speech 
and  the  voice,  as  well  as  to  familiarize  the  pupil  with  dif- 
ferent combinations  of  sounds.  Pupils  will  not  pass  from 
these  exercises  until  they  can  utter  the  elements  repre- 
sented by  the  figured  vowels  in  whatever  order  the  in- 
structor may  require.  As  the  fifth  element  represented  by 
a,  and  the  third  element  of  e,  are  always  immediately  fol- 
lowed  by  the  oral  element  of  r  in  words,  the  r  is  introduced 
in  like  manner  in  these  exercises.  The  sixth  sound  of  a, 
when  not  a  syllable  by  itself,  is  always  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  oral  element  of  /,  n,  or  s,  in  words.  For  con* 
venience,/  only  is  introduced  in  these  combinations. 


I. 

TONICS 

AM)  i 

3UBTONICS. 

1.  ba, 

ba, 

ba, 

ba, 

bar, 

baf;     be, 

be8, 

b6r; 

lb, 

lb; 

6b, 

6b, 

6b; 

ub,      ub, 

ub; 

oub. 

ad, 

ad, 

ad, 

ad, 

ard, 

af;       ed, 

6d, 

erd; 

di, 

di; 

do, 

do, 

do; 

du,       du, 

du; 

dou. 

ga, 

ga, 

g*> 

g*> 

gar, 

g&f;    ge, 

g£> 

ger; 

ig, 

ig; 

°g> 

te 

°g; 

ug>       ug> 

*g-5 

ong. 

20  NATIONAL  THIRD    READER. 

2.  jaf,  jar,  ja,  ja,  ja, 

j?,   /  j";  jo,  j6,  jo; 

laf,  lar,  la,  la,  la, 

II,  11;  61,  61,  61; 

af,  arm,  am,  am,  am, 

mi,  mi;  m6,  mo,  mo; 

3.  na,  na,  na,  nar,  naf, 
nl,  ni;  no,  no,  no; 
ang,  arng,  ang,  af,  ang,     ang;    6ng,     6rng,  eng; 
ing,  ing;  ong,  ong,  6ng;    ung,     ung,    ung;    oung 
ra,  ra,  rar,  ra,  ra,       raf;     re,       rer,      re; 
ri,  ri;  ro,  ro,  r6;      ru,       ru,       ru;      rou. 

4.  -flia,  ftia,  ftiar,  ftiaf,  flia,     flia;    flier,    fli6,     fli6; 
Ifti,  Mi;  6fli,  ofli,  ofti;    Mi,     Mi,     Mi;    oufti. 
av,  af,  av,  av,  av,      arv;    6rv,     6v,      ev; 
vi,  vi;  vo,  to,  vo;      vu,      vu,      vu;     vou. 
wa,  wa,  war,  wa,  wa,      waf;    w6r,    w6,      we; 


ja; 

1% 

la; 

jer, 
16r, 

js, 

15, 

jou. 

fil, 

ai, 

U- 

oul. 

am; 

6rm, 

6m, 

6m; 

mu, 

mu, 

mu: 

mou 

na; 

n6, 

n6r, 

n6; 

nu, 

nu, 

nu; 

nou. 

wi 


5.  ya,  ya,  ya,  yd,  yar,  yaf;  ye,  y6,  y6r; 

Jh  l\\  y^  yo,  yo;  yu,  yu,  yfi;  yon. 

zou;  zu,  zu,  zu;  zo,  zo,  zo;  zi,  zi; 

z6r,  z6,  ze;  zaf,  zar,  za,  za,  za,  za. 

ouz;  uz,  uz,  uz;  6z,  6z,  6z;  Iz,  iz; 

6rz,  6z,  ez;  af,  arz,  az,  az,  az,  aa. 


IL  TONICS  AND  ATONICS. 

1.  fe,  fa,  fa,  fa,  -far,  faf;  fe,  f&,  fer; 

fi,  ft;  fb,  f6,  f6;  fu,  fu,  fa;  fou. 

har,  haf,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha;  hS,  he,  h6r; 

hi,  hi;  ho,  htf,  h6;  hu,  hu,  hti;  hou. 

ak,  ak,  ak,  ak,  ark,  af;  6k,  ek,  6rk; 

Ik,  Ik;  ok,  6k,  ok;  uk,  uk,  ilk;  ouk. 

pa,  pa,  pa,  pa,  par,  paf;  pS,  pe,  p6r; 

pi,  pi;  po,  po,  p5;  pu,  pii,  pu;  pou. 


ERRORS    IN    ARTICULATION. 


21 


%  af, 

ars, 

as, 

as, 

as, 

as; 

ers, 

Ss, 

es; 

is, 

»'; 

6s, 

tfs, 

os; 

us, 

tis, 

us  ; 

ous. 

taf, 

tar, 

ta, 

ta, 

ta, 

ta; 

t<§r, 

tS, 

te; 

ti, 

tl; 

t6, 

t6, 

to; 

tu, 

tu, 

tii; 

tou. 

thaf, 

thar, 

tha, 

tha, 

tha, 

tha; 

ther, 

the, 

the; 

Ith, 

Ith; 

6th, 

6th, 

6th; 

uth, 

uth, 

uth; 

outhv 

ouch* 

uch, 

uch, 

uch; 

och, 

och, 

och; 

Jen, 

Ich; 

erch, 

ech, 

Sch; 

af, 

ach, 

ach, 

arch, 

ach, 

ach. 

3.  chou ; 

chu, 

chii, 

chu; 

cho, 

chfl, 

cho; 

chi, 

chf; 

eher, 

che, 

che; 

cha, 

cha, 

cha, 

cha, 

char, 

chaf. 

oush; 

ush, 

ush, 

ush; 

osh, 

osh, 

tfsh; 

Isli, 

Tsh; 

e'rsh, 

esh, 

esh; 

ash, 

if, 

ash, 

ash, 

ash, 

arsh. 

shou; 

shu, 

shti, 

shu; 

sho, 

sh6, 

sho; 

shi, 

shi; 

she'r, 

she, 

sh&; 

shaf, 

shar, 

sha, 

sha, 

sha, 

sha. 

whou; 

whu, 

whu, 

whu; 

who, 

who, 

wh5; 

whi, 

whi; 

wher, 

whe, 

whe; 

whaf,  whar,  wha, 

wha, 

wha, 

whd. 

VI. 
EEEOES   IN   AETICULATION. 

EEEOES  in  Articulation  arise  chiefly,  first,  from  the 
omission  of  one  or  more  elements  in  a  word ;  as, 


an' 

for 

and. 

sta'm 

for  storm. 

frien's 

a 

friends. 

wa'm 

"    warm. 

blin'ness 

a 

blind  ness. 

bois  t'rous  "    bois  ter  ous. 

fac's 

a 

facte. 

chick'n 

"    chick  en. 

sof  ly 

a 

soft  ly. 

his  fry 

"    his  to  ry. 

fiel's 

a 

field's. 

nov'l 

"    nov  £1. 

wil's 

a 

wilds. 

trav'l 

"    travel. 

Secondly, 

fron 

l  uttering  one 

or  more  elements  that  slioul< 

>t  be  sounded 

;  as, 

ev  e'n 

for 

ev  n. 

rav  el 

for    rav'l. 

heav  en 

a 

heav'n. 

sev  £n 

"      sev'n. 

tak  £n 

u 

tak'n. 

sof  t<§n 

"      sofn. 

sick  £n 

a 

sick'n. 

shak  en 

"      shak'n 

driv  el 

a 

driv'l. 

shov  el 

"      shov'l. 

grov  £  I 

a 

grov'l. 

shriv  £1 

"      shriv'L 

22 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 


Thirdly \  ircm.  substituting 

one  element  for  another ;  as, 

sSt        for 

sit. 

carse 

for 

course. 

se'nce     " 
shSt       " 

for  git    " 
care       " 

since, 
shut, 
for  ge1 1. 
care. 

re  part 
tr6ffy 
pa  rent 
bun  net 

u 
u 
u 

re  port. 
tr6  phy. 
par  ent. 
b5n  net. 

dance    " 

dance. 

chil  drim 

a 

chil  dre'n. 

past       " 
ask 

past, 
ask. 

sul  ler 
mel  ler 

a 
a 

eel  lar. 
mel  low. 

grass      " 
mil        " 

grass. 
$Arill. 

pil  ler 
mo  mimt 

a 

pil  low. 
mo  m^nt. 

wirl        " 

wAirl. 

harm  k'ss 

a 

harm  Mss. 

a  gan     " 
a  ganst  " 
herth     " 

a  gain  (a  gen). 
against  (ag^rist). 
hearth  (harth). 

[I 

kind  n^ss 
wis  per 
sing  in 

a 
a 
a 

kind  n§ss. 
wAis  per. 
sing  i^. 

ANALYSIS    OF    WOEDS. 

IN  order  to  secure  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  preced- 
ing definitions  and  tables,  to  learn  to  spell  spoken 
words  by  their  oral  elements,  and  to  understand  the  uses 
of  letters  in  written  words,  the  instructor  will  aid  the 
pupil  to  master  the  following  exhaustive,  though  simple, 
analysis. 

1st.  The  word  salve,  in  pronunciation,  is  formed  by  the 
union  of  three  oral  elements;  sav — salve.  (Here  let  the 
pupil  utter  the  three  oral  elements  separately,  and  then 
pronounce  the  word.)  The  first  is  a  modified  breathing  ; 
hence,  it  is  an  atonic.  The  second  is  a  pure  tone ;  hence,  it 
is  a  tonic.  The  third  is  a  modified  tone  ;  hence,  it  is  a 
subtonic. 

2d.  The  word  salve,  in  writing,  is  represented  by  five 
letters;  salve — salve.  8  represents  an  atonic;  hence,  it 
is  a  consonant.  Its  oral  element  is  chiefly  formed  by  the 
teeth ;  hence,  it  is  a  dental.  Its  oral  element  is  produced 
by  the  same  organs  and  in  a  similar  manner  as  the  first 


RULES    IN    ARTICULATION.  23 

oral  element  of  z;  hence,  it  is  a  cognate  of  z,  A  represents 
a  tonic ;  hence,  it  is  a  vowel.  L  is  silent.  V  represents  a 
snbtonic  ;  hence,  it  is  a  consonant.  Its  oral  element  is 
chiefly  formed  by  the  lower  lip  and  the  upper  teeth  ;  hence, 
it  is  a  labia-dental.  Its  oral  element  is  formed  by  the  same 
organs  and  in  a  similar  manner  as  that  of  /;  hence,  it  is  a 
cognate  of  /.     E  is  silent. 

1st.  The  word  shoe,  in  'pronunciation,  is  formed  by  the 
union  of  two  oral  elements ;  sh  6 — shoe.  The  first  is  a 
modified  breathing  ;  hence,  it  is  an  atonic.  The  second  is 
a  pure  tone  ;  hence,  it  is  a  tonic. 

2d.  The  word  shoe,  in  writing,  is  represented  by  four 
letters;  shoe — shoe.  The  combination  sh  represents  an 
atonic  ;  hence,  it  is  a  consonant.  Its  oral  element  is  ^chiefly 
formed  by  the  teeth ;  hence,  it  is  a  dental.  Its  oral  ele- 
ment is  produced  by  the  same  organs  and  in  a  similar 
manner  as  the  second  oral  element  represented  by  z; 
hence,  it  is  a  cognate  of  z.  The  combination  oe  is  formed 
by  the  union  of  two  vowels,  one  of.  which  is  silent ;  hence, 
it  is  an  improper  diphthong.  It  represents  the  oral  ele- 
ment usually  represented  by  5  ;  hence,  it  is  an  alphabetic 
equivalent  of  6. 

VIII. 
KULES   IN    AETICULATION. 

A  AS  the  name  of  a  letter,  or  when  used  as  an  emphatic 
word,  should  always  be  pronounced  a  (a  in  age) ;  as, 

She  did  not  say  that  the  three  boys  knew  the  letter  a,  but 
that  a  boy  knew  it. 

2.  The  word  A,  when  not  emphatic,  is  marked  short  (a),1 
though  in  quality  it  should  be  pronounced  nearly  like  a  as 
heard  in  ask,  grass ;  as, 

Give  a  baby  sister  a  smile,  a  kind  word,  and  a  kiss. 

1  A  initial. — A  in  many  words,  or  volume  of  sound  being  less  than 
as  an  initial  unaccented  syllable,  is  that  of  a  sixth  power  (a),  as  in  alas 
also  marked  short  (a),  its  quantity    amass,  abaft. 


24  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  The,  when  not  emphatic  nor  immediately  followed  by 
a  word  that  commences  with  a  vowel  sound,  should  be  pro* 
nounced  thu ;  as, 

The  (M)  peach,  the  (finl)  plum,  the  apple,  and  the  (fliu) 
cherry  are  yours.     Did  he  ask  for  a  pen,  or  for  th&  pen  ? 

4.  U  preceded  by  B. — When  u  long  (u  in  tube),  or  its 
alphabetic  equivalent  ew,  is  preceded  by  r,  or  the  sound  of 
sh,  in  the  same  syllable,  it  has  always  the  sound  of  o  in  do; 
as  in  rude,  sure,  shrewd.        V  r) 

5.  B  may  be  trilled  when  immediately  followed  by  a 
vowel  sound  in  the  same  syllable.  When  thus  situated  in 
emphatic  words,  it  should  always  be  trilled ;  as, 

He  is  both  brave  and  true. 


IX. 
EXEECISES    IN    AETICULATION. 

SILENT  letters  are"  here  omitted  and  the  words  are 
spelled  as  they  should  be  pronounced.  The  pupils 
will  read  the  sentences  several  times,  both  separately  and 
in  concert,  uttering  all  the  oral  elements  with  force  and 
distinctness.  They  will  also  analyze  the  words,  both  as 
spoken  and  written,  and  name  the  rules  in  articulation 
that  are  illustrated  by  the  exercises. 

1.  It  must  be  so. 

2.  Thu  bold,  bad  baiz  brok  bolts  and  barz. 

3.  Thu  rogz  rtisht  round  fhu  riif,  red  r5ks. 

4.  Hi  on  a  hil  Hu  herd  harsez  harni  h6fs. 

5.  Shor  al  h^r  pathz  ar  pathz  6v  pes. 

6.  Ba !  ftiat'z  not  siks  dollarz,  but  a  dollar. 

7.  Charj  the  old  man  to  choz  a  chais  chez. 

8.  Lit  seklng  lit,  hath  lit  6v  lit  begild. 

9.  Bofti'z  y6ths  wifli  troths  yuz  oftiz. 

10.  Arm  it  wifli  ragz,  a  plgmi  stra  wll  pers  it. 

11.  Nou  set  ftiu  teth  and  str^ch  fiiu  nostril  wid. 

12.  He  w6cht  and  wept,  he  f§lt  and  prad  far  aL 


SYLLABICATION.  25 

13.  Hlz  Iz,  amidst  fhu.  mists,  mez§rd  an  azer  ski. 

14.  Thu  whalz  wheld  and  whMd,  and  bard  thar  brad, 
broun  baks. 

15.  Jilz  and  Jasn  Jonz  kan  n5t  sa, — Arora,  alas,  amas, 
manna,  villa,  nar  Lima. 

16.  Tim  strif  seseth,  pes  approch£th,  and  fhu  gud  man 
rejaise'th. 

17.  Thu  shrod  shroz  bad  him  sa  that  fhu  vil  viksnz  yuzd 
shrfigz,  and  sharp  shril  shreks. 


II.    SYLLABICATION. 

A  SYLLABLE  is  a  word,  or  part  of  a  word,  uttered  by 
a  single  impulse  of  the  voice. 

2.  A  Monosyllable  is  a  word  of  one  syllable ;  as,  home. 

3.  A  Dissyllable  is  a  word  of  two  syllables ;  as,  home-less. 

4.  A  Trisyllable  is  a  word  of  three  syllables ;  as,  con- 
finement. 

5.  A  Polysyllable  is  a  word  of  four  or  more  syllables ; 
as,  in-no-cen-cy,  un-in-tel-li-gi-bil-i-ty. 

6.  The  Ultimate  is  the  last  syllable  of  a  word ;  as,  fid, 
in  -pea,ce-ful. 

7.  The  Penult  is  the  last  syllable  but  one  of  a  word ;  as, 
male,  in  peace-raa&-er. 

8.  The  Antepenult  is  the  last  syllable  but  two  of  a 
word ;  as  ta,  in  spon-to-ne-ous. 

9.  The  Preantepenult  is  the  last  syllable  but  three  of  a 
word ;  as  cab,  in  vo-ca&-u-la-ry. 

Let  the  pupils  give  the  number  and  names  of  the  syl- 
lables, in  words  of  more  than  one  syllable,  in  the  following 

EXERCISES    IN    SYLLABICATION. 

1.  Night  is  calm  and  fair :  blue,  starry,  settled  is  night. 
The  winds,  with  the  clouds,  are  gone.  Noiselessly,  they 
sink  behind  the  hill. 


26  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

2.  The  moon  is  upon  the  mountains.      Trees  glisten 
streams  shine  on  the  rock.     Bright  rolls  the  settled  lake : 
bright  the  stream  of  the  valley. 

3.  I  see  the  trees  overturned,  and  the  shocks  of  corn. 
The  wakeful  boy  quickly  rebuilds  the  shocks,  and  merrily 
whistles  on  the  distant  field. 

4.  The  dark  waves  tumble  on  the  lake,  and  lash  its  rocky 
shores.  The  boat  is  brimful  in  the  bay :  the  oars  are  on 
the  rocking  tide. 

5.  The  breezes  drive  the  blue  mist  slowly  over  the  nar» 
row  vale.  Night  is  settled,  calm,  blue,  starry,  magnificent 
wifh  the  moon.  The  youth  are  rejoicing,  for  lovely  is  the 
night. 

6.  In  night's  starry  shade  of  dim  and  solitary  loveliness, 
I  learn  the  language  of  another  world. 


III.    ACCENT. 

ACCENT  is  the  peculiar  force  given  to  one  or  more 
syllables  of  a  word. 

2.  In  many  trisyllables  and  polysyllables,  of  two  syllables 
accented,  one  is  uttered  with  greater  force  than  the  other. 
The  more  forcible  accent  is  called  primary,  and  the  less 
forcible,  secondary;  as,  Aafr-i-TA-tion. 

3.  The  mark  of  acute  accent  [']  is  often  used  to  indicate 
primary  accent ;  as, 

While  not  forget'ting  the  past,  improve'  the  pres'ent. 

4.  The  mark  of  grave  accent  p]  is  here  used  to  indicatp, 
first,  secondary  accent ;  secondly,  that  the  vowel  over  which 
it  is  placed,  forms  a  separate  syllable  ;  and,  thirdly,  that 
the  vowel  is  not  an  alphabetic  equivalent,  but  represents 
one  of  its  usual  oral  elements ;  as, 

My  benefactor  bought  the  vTolin.  A  learned  man  caught 
that  winged  thing.  Her  goodness  [not  goodniss]  moved  the 
roughest. 


EMPHASIS.  27 

The  pupil  will  be  required  to  give  the  office  of  each  mark 
in  the  following 

EXERCISES    IN    ACCENT. 

1.  The  lonely  hunt'er  calls  his  bound'ing  dogs,  that 
desert'  him  in  the  des'ert,  and  seeks  the  high'way. 

Hark !  the  whirl'wind  is  in  the  forest :  aged  trees  are 
overturned'. 

3.  Will  the  heedlessness  of  honest  students  offend'  their 
truest  friends  ? 

4.  That  blessed  and  beloved  child  loves  every  winged 
thing. 

5.  The  agree'able  ar'tisan^  made  an  ad'mirable  pSrfas6r 
for  that  beau'tiful  Russian  (rush'an)  la'dy. 

6.  No'tice  the  marks  of  ac'cent,  and  al'ways  accent'  cor- 
rectly words  that  should  have  but  one  ac'cent,  as  in  sen- 
sible, vaga'ry,  circumstances,  difficulty,  interesting,  &c. 


IV.   EMPHASIS. 

EMPHASIS  is  the  peculiar  force  given  to  one  or  more 
words  of  a  sentence. 

2.  To  give  a  word  emphasis,  means  to  pronounce  it  in  a 
Loud1  or  forcible  manner.  No  uncommon  tone,  however,  is 
necessary,  as  words  may  be  made  emphatic  by  prolonging 
the  vowel  sounds,  by  a  pause,  or  even  by  a  whisper. 

3.  Emphatic  words  are  often  printed  in  italics;  those 
more  emphatic,  in  small  capitals  ;  and  those  that  receive 
the  greatest  force,  in  large  CAPITALS. 

EXERCISES    IN    EMPHASIS. 

1.  He  may  run ;  /  will  not. 

2.  I  dislike,  I  feae,  I  HATE  him. 

3.  It  is  the  sun  that  shines ;  it  is  not  the  moon. 

1  Loudness. — The  instructor  will  ence  to  high  pitch,  but  to  volume  of 
explain  to  the  class  the  fact,  that  voice,  used  on  the  same  key  or  pitch 
loudness  has  not.  of  necessity,  jefer-     when  reading:  or  speaking. 


28  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

4.  Do  you  wish  to  study  this  morning,  or  to  be  idle  ? 

5.  You  were  taught  to  love  your  brother,  not  to  hate  him. 

6.  I  did  not  strike  him :  why  ?  because  a  dtf g  may  not 
only  bark,  but  bite. 

7.  A  good  boy  loves  himself  too  well  to  lose  a  dinner  by 
betting,  and  his  school-mate  too  well  to  win  one. 

8.  The  plumage  of  the  mocking-bird,  though  none  of  the 
homeliest,  has  nothing  bright  or  showy  in  it ;  but  his  figure  is 
well-proportioned,  and  even  handsome. 

9.  My  friends,  our  country  must  be  fkee  !  The  land  is 
never  lost,  that  has  a  son  to  right  her,  and  here  are  troops  of 
sons,  and  loyal  ones ! 

10.  Little  Nell  was  dead.  No  sleep  so  beautiful  and  calm, 
so  free  from  mark  of  fain,  so  /cm*  to  look  upon. 

11.  Her  bed  was  dressed  with  here  and  there  some  winter- 
berries  and  green  leaves,  gathered  in  a  spot  she  had  been 
used  to  favor. 

12.  "  When  I  die,  put  near  me  something  that  has  loved 
the  light,  and  had  the  sky  above  it  always.'"  Those  were 
her  words. 


Y.    SLUR. 

SLUE  is  that  smooth,  gliding,  subdued  movement  of 
the  voice,  by  which  those  parts  of  a  sentence  of  less 
comparative  importance  are  rendered  less  impressive  to 
the  ear,  and  emphatic  words  and  phrases  set  in  strongei 
relief. 

2.  Emphatic  words,  or  the  words  that  express  the  lead- 
ing thoughts,  are  usually  pronounced  with  a  louder  and 
more  forcible  effort  of  the  voice,  and  are  often  prolonged. 
But  words  that  are  slurred  must  generally  be  read  in  a 
lower  and  less  forcible  tone  of  voice,  more  rapidly,  and  all 
pronounced  nearly  alike. 

3.  The  parts  which  are  to  be  slurred  in  most  of  the  exer- 
cises are  printed  in  Italic  letters.     Pupils  will  first  read  the 


BSLUR  29 

parts  of  the  sentence  that  appear  in  Koman,  and  then  the 
whole  sentence,  passing  lightly  and  quickly  over  what  was 
first  omitted.  They  will  also  read  the  examples  that  are 
unmarked  in  like  manner. 

EXERCISES    IN    SLUR. 

1.  Dismiss,  as  soon  as  may  be,  all  angry  thoughts. 

2.  John  set  out  early,  and,  before  the  close  of  the  day,  ai- 
rived  at  his  father's  house. 

3.  The  boys  (hard-hearted  cubs  /)  melted  not  into  tears, 
nor  did  the  girls  hang  their  heads  in  sadness. 

4  The  air  is  mild  as  summer,  all  frost  is  out  the  ground, 
and  the  birds  are  singing  aloud  (by  the  way,  I  know  that  it 
is  still  cold  in  your  village). 

5.  James,  though  still  a  small  boy,  when  he  saw  his  moiJier 
hesitate  a  little  about  giving  her  consent,  decided  not  to  go  and 
ride. 

6.  "I  do  not  suppose,  however,"  said  his  mother,  "that 
you  would  be  much  trouble  to  us." 

7.  "But,"  said  he,  "  if  I  should  stay,  I  can  get  ahead  one 
more  day  in  my  geography. 

8.  I  am  sure,  my  dear  Edwin,  if  you  provide  for  your 
young  brothers  and  sisters,  that  God  will  bless  you. 

9.  I  had  always  thought  that  I  could  meet  death  without 
a  murmur ;  but  I  did  not  know,  she  said,  with  a  faint  voice, 
her  lips  quivering,  I  did  not  know,  till  noiv,  how  hard  a  thing 
it  would  be  to  leave  my  child. 

10.  "  But  now,"  whispered  the  dear  girl,  "  it  is  evening : 
the  sun,  that  t  ejoices,  has  finished  his  daily  toil ;  man,  that 
labors,  has  finished  his ;  I,  that  suffer,  have  finished  mine." 
Just  then,  her  dull  ear  caught  a  sound.  It  was  the  sound, 
though  muffled  and  deadened,  like  the  ear  that  heard  it,  of 
horsemen  advancing. 

11.  Children  are  wading,  with  cheerful  cries, 
In  the  shoals  of  the  sparkling  brook  ; 
Laughing  maidens,  with  soft,  young  eyes 
Walk  or  sit  in  the  shady  nook. 


30  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

12.  Young  eyes  that  last  year  smiled  in  ours 

Now  point  the  rifle's  barrel ; 
And  hands  then  stained  with  fruits  and  flowers 
Bear  redder  stains  of  quarrel. 

13.  The  moon  is  at  her  full,  and,  riding  high, 

Floods  the  calm  fields  with  light. 
The  airs  that  hover  in  the  summer  sky 
Are  all  asleep  to-night. 

14.  A  Frenchman  once — so  runs  a  certain  ditty — 
Had  crossed  the  Straits  to  famous  London  city, 
To  get  a  living  by  the  arts  of  France, 

And  teach  his  neighbor,  rough  John  Bull,  to  dance. 

But  lacking  pupils,  vain  was  all  his  skill ; 

His  fortunes  sank  from  low  to  lower  still, 

Until  at  last,  pathetic  to  relate, 

Poor  Monsieur  landed  at  starvation's  gate. 

15.  The  sick  man  from  his  chamber  looks  at  the  twisted 
brooks ;  and,  feeling  the  cool  breath  of  each  little  pool, 
breathes  a  blessing  on  the  summer  rain. 


YI.    INFLECTIONS. 

INFLECTIONS  are  the  bends  or  slides  of  the  voice, 
used  in  reading  and  speaking. 

2.  There  are  three  inflections  or  slides  of  the  voice  :  the 
Kislng  Inflection,  the  Falling  Inflection,  and  the  Cik- 
cumflex. 

3.  The  Kising  Inflection  is  the  upward  bend  or  slide 
of  the  voice  ;  as, 

Do  you  love  your  ^° 

4.  The  Falling  Inflection  is  the  downward  bend  or 
slide  of  the  voice  ;  as. 


"When  are  you  going     °^2q  p 


INFLECTIONS  31 

5.  The  Circumflex  is  the  union  of  the  inflections  on  the 
same  syllable  or  word,  either  commencing  with  the  rising 
and  ending  with  the  falling,  or  commencing  with  the  falling 
and  ending  with  the  rising,  thus  producing  a  slight  wave 
of  the  voice. 

6.  The  acute  accent  [']  is  often  used  to  mark  the  rising^ 
inflection;  the  grave  accent  ['],  the  falling  inflection ;  as, 

Will  you  read  or  spell  ? 

7.  When  the  circumflex  commences  with  a  rising  and  ends 
with  a  falling  slide  of  the  voice,  it  is  marked  thus  *"*" ;  but 
when  it  commences  with  a  falling  and  ends  with  a  rising 
slide,  it  is  marked  thus  w,  which  the  pupil  will  see  is  the 
same  mark  turned  over ;  as, 

You  must  take  me  for  a  fool,  to  think  I  could  do  that. 

8.  The  inflections  or  slides  should  be  used  on  the  ac- 
cented syllables  of  important  or  emphatic  words ;  as, 

I  will  never  stay.     I  said  goodly  not  homely. 

9.  Words  that  are  used  to  affirm  or  command  anything, 
or  to  ask  a  question  that  can  not  be  answered  by  yes  or  no, 
usually  require  the  falling  inflection ;  as, 

I  have  been  long  away.  Speak,  I  charge  you !  What  means 
this  noise  ? 

10.  Words  that  do  not  affirm  or  command  anything  posi- 
tively, or  that  ask  a  question  which  can  be  answered  by  yes 
or  no,  usually  require  the  rising  inflection ;  as, 

I  have  not  been  long  away.  If  the  war  must  go  on,  did  he 
say  he  would  come  ? 

11.  Thoughts  that  are  not  sincere  or  earnest,  but  are 
used  in  mockery  or  jest,  usually  require  the  circumflex  ;  as 

For  my  own  part,  I  shall  be  glad  to  learn  of  these  wise  boys 

EXERCISES    IN    INFLECTIONS. 

1.  I  want  a  pen.     It  is  not  a  book  I  want. 

2.  This  book  is  yours,  not  mine  :  red,  not  brown. 

3.  It  is  true  that  I  denied  him  not.  I  thrice  presented 
him  a  heavy  purse. 

4.  I  said  an  elder  soldier,  not  a  better.    Did  I  say  better? 


S2  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

6.  I  said  good,  not  bad :  nappy,  not  miserable. 

7.  O  James !  O  my  brother !  how  art  thou  fallen. 

8.  Thanks  to  the  gods !  my  boy  has  done  his  duty. 

9.  Will  you  forsake  us  ?  and  will  you  favor  us  no  more  ? 

10.  Does  that  beautiful  boy  deserve  praise,  or  blame  ? 

11.  Do  men  gather  grapes  from  thorns,  or  figs  irom 
thistles? 

12.  But  when  shall  we  be  stronger  ?  Will  it  be  the  next 
week,  or  the  next  year  ? 

13.  Sink  or  swim,  live  or  die,  I  give  my  hand  and  heart 
to  this  vote. 

14.  Hath  a  dog  money  ?  Is  it  possible  a  cur  can  lend 
three  thousand  dollars  ? 

15.  Flavius. — Thou  art  a  cobbler,  art  thou  ?  But  why 
art  thou  not  in  thy  shop  to-day?  Why  dost  thou  lead 
these  men  about  the  streets  ? 

16.  Cobbler. — Truly,  sir,  to  wear  out  their  shoes,  to  get 

myself  into  more  work.     But,  indeed,  sir,  we  make  holiday, 
to  see  Cce  ^sar,  and  to  rejoice  in  his  triumph. 


MARKS  USED  IN  PRINTING. 

ONLY  those  points  or  marks  are  here  introduced  that 
are  necessary,  in  written  or  printed  language,  to  make 
plain  the  meaning  of  the  writer,  or  to  mark  a  portion  of  the 
pauses  that  are  used  in  good  reading.  The  teacher  will 
employ  this  for  a  reading  lesson,  and  not  for  a  task,  making 
all  necessary  additional  explanations. 

1.  The  Comma  [ ,  ]  marks  the  smallest  division  of  a  sen- 
tence, and  usually  represents  the  shortest  pause ;  as, 

The  butterfly,  child  of  the  summer,  flutters  in  the  sun. 

2.  The  Semicolon  [ ;  ]  separates  such  parts  of  a  sentence 
as  are  somewhat  less  closely  connected  than  those  divided 
by  a  comma,  and  usually  represents"  a  longer  pause ;  as, 

And  noblest  men  and  women  have  been  children  once  ;  lisp- 


MARKS    USEU    IN    PRINTING.  33 

ing  the  speech,  laughing  the  laugh,  thinking  the  thought,  of 
boyhood. 

3. -The  Colon  [•:]  separates  parts  of  a  sentence  less 
closely  connected  than  those  divided  by  a  semicolon,  and 
usually  represents  a  longer  pause  ;  as, 

He  who  receives  a  good  turn  should  never  forget  it :  he  ^ho 
does  one  should  never  remember  it. 

4.  The  Pekiod  [ .  ]  is  placed  at  the  close  of  a  sentence 
which  declares  something,  and  usually  represents  a  full 
stop.     It  must  be  used  after  every  abbreviated  word ;  as, 

If  you  will,  you  can  rise.  Send  the  money  to  Geo.  W.  Ste- 
venson, Esq. 

5.  The  Inteeeogation  Point  [  1  ]  shows  that  a  question 
is  asked ;  as, 

You  say  you  will  do  better  to-morrow  ;  but  are  you  sure  of 
to-morrow  ?     Have  you  one  hour  in  your  hand  ? 

6.  The  Exclamation  Polnt  [!]  is  placed  after  words 
that  express  surprise,  astonishment,  admiration,  and  other 
strong  feelings ;  as, 

Alas,  my  noble  boy !  that  thou  shouldst  die ! 

7.  The  Dash  [  —  ]  is  used  when  a  sentence  breaks  off 
abruptly ;  when  there  is  an  unexpected  turn  in  sentiment ; 
and  when  a  long  or  significant  pause  is  required ;  as, 

Was  there  ever  a  braver  soldier?  Was  there  ever — but  I 
scorn  to  boast.  There  are  two  kinds  of  evils, — those  which 
can  not  be  cured,  and  those  which  can. 

8.  Makes  of  Paeenthesis  ( )  are  used  to  inclose  words 
that  interrupt  the  progress  of  the  sentence  in  which  they 
appear,  and  that  can  be  omitted  without  injury  to  its  sense. 
They  should  be  slurred  in  reading ;  as, 

Whether  playing  ball  or  riding  on  horseback  (for  he  uses  his 
father's  horse),  the  boy  knows  both  how  to  start,  and  when  to 
stop. 

9.  Beackets  [  ]  are  chiefly  used  to  inclose  words  that 
serve  to  explain  one  or  more  words  of  a  sentence,  or  to 
point  out  a  reference  ;  as, 

Washington  [the  Father  of  his  Country]  made  this  remark. 


34  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

You  will  find  an  account  of  the  creation  in  the  Bible.  [See 
Genesis,  chap,  i.] 

10.  Marks  of  Quotation  ["  "]  are  used  to  show,  that 
the  real  or  supposed  words  of  another  are  given.  A  quo- 
tation written  within  a  quotation  requires  only  single 
marks;  as, 

"  If  this  poor  man,"  said  my  father,  "  thus  earnestly  says,  ■  I 
thank  God  that  He  is  good  to  me/  how  can  we  express  our 
thanks  for  his  many  mercies." 

11.  The  Index,  or  Hand,  [J^01]  points  out  a  passage 
for  special  attention  ;  as, 

"  B®~  AU  orders  will  be  promptly  and  carefully  attended  to." 

12.  The  Apostrophe  ['],  a  mark  distinguished  from  a 
comma  by  being  placed  above  the  line,  denotes  the  omis- 
sion of  one  or  more  letters.  It  is  also  used  before  s  in  the 
singular  number,  and  after  s  in  the  plural,  to  mark  posses- 
sion; as, 

Do  not  ask  who'H  go  with  you :  go  ahead.  Uncle  bought 
Cora's  shoes,  and  the  boys'  hats. 

13.  Marks  op  Ellipsis  [ #*##]  are  formed  by 

means  of  a  long  dash,  or  of  a  succession  of  periods  or  stars 
of  various  lengths,  and  are  used  to  indicate  the  omission 
of  letters  in  a  word,  of  words  in  a  sentence,  or  of  one  or 
more  sentences ;  as, 

Friend  O s  is  in  trouble.    "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 

God  with  all  thy  heart,  ....  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 
"  Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind  ;  *  *  *  *  Beareth  aU  things, 
belie veth  all  things,  endure th  all  things." 

14.  The  Hyphen  [  -  ]  is  placed  after  a  syllable  ending  a 
line,  to  show  that  the  remainder  of  the  word  begins  the 
next  line.  It  usually  unites  the  words  of  which  a  com- 
pound is  formed,  when  each  of  them  retains  its  original 
accent;  as, 

We  thank  the  aU'-wise'  God  for  the  in'cense-breath'ing  morn. 

15.  Marks  or  Eeference. — The  Asterisk,  or  Star  [*],  the 
Obelisk,  or  Dagger  [t],  the  Double  Dagger  [$],  the  Sec- 


GENERAL    EXERCISES.  35 

tion  [§],  Parallel  Lines  [||],  and  the  Paragraph  [T],  are 
used,  in  the  order  here  presented,  when  references  are 
made  to  remarks  or  notes  in  the  margin,  at  the  bottom  of 
the  page,  or  some  other  part  of  the  book.  Letters  and 
figures,  however,  are  now  more  generally  used  for  marks  of 
reference. 

16.  The  Dlekesis  [*]  is  placed  over  the  latter  of  two 
vowels  to  show  that  they  are  to  be  pronounced  separately ; 
as, 

His  ideas  of  the  Creator  were  formed  in  those  aerial  heights. 

Pupils  will  be  required  to  give  the  names  and  uses  of  all 
the  marks,  or  points,  in  the  following 

GENERAL    EXERCISES. 

1.  A  wise  man  seeks  to  shine  in  himself ;  a  fool,  to  out- 
shine others. 

2.  Labor  brings  pleasure  ;  idleness,  pain. 

3.  Stones  grow ;  vegetables  grow  and  live ;  animals 
grow,  live,  and  feel. 

4  The  old  men  sit  at  their  doors ;  the  (thu)  gossip  leans 
over  her  counter;  the  children  shout  and  frolic  in  the 
street. 

5.  Laziness  grows  on  people ;  it  begins  in  cobwebs,  and 
ends  in  iron  chains. 

6.  "Honest  boys,"  said  I,  "be  so  good  as  to  tell  me 
whether  I  am  in  the  (thu)  way  to  Kichmond." 

7.  The  true  lover  of  beauty  sees  it  in  the  lowliest  flower, 
meets  it  in  every  path  (path),  enjoys  it  everywhere. 

8.  Has  God  provided  for  the  poor  a  coarser  earth,  a 
thinner  air,  a  paler  sky  ? 

9.  Angry  children  are  like  men  standing  on  their  heads: 
they  see  all  things  the  wrong  way.  To  rule  ones  anger  is 
well :  to  prevent  it  is  better. 

10.  "A  pure  and  gentle  soul,"  said  my  friend,  "often 
feels  that  this  world  is  full  of  beauty, — full  of  innocent 
gladness." 

11.  What  do  you  say  ?     What  ?     I  really  do  not  under- 


36  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

stand  you.  Be  so  good  as  to  explain  yourself  again  (a  gen') 
Upon  my  word,  I  do  not. — Oh !  now  I  know :  you  mean  to 
tell  me  it  is  a  cold  day.  Why  did  you  not  say  at  once,  "  It 
is  cold  to-day." 


OBSEBVATIONS   TO   TEACHEBS. 

IN  order  to  form  good  readers,  it  will  be  necessary  for  pu- 
pils, after  they  have  thoroughly  mastered  Part  First,  to 
review  frequently  the  more  important  elements  of  elocution. 
In  Part  Second,  they  should  be  required  to  study  carefully 
each  reading  lesson,  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  pronun- 
ciation and  definitions  of  doubtful  words  and  of  the  impor- 
tant facts  embraced  in  the  notes,  before  attempting  to  read 
in  the  class.  In  order  to  secure  a  natural  and  easy  style 
of  delivery,  let  them  often  commence  with  the  last  word  in 
a  paragraph  and  pronounce  back  to  the  first,  before  read- 
ing from  left  to  right.  The  judgment  and  taste  of  the 
pupils  should  constantly  be  called  into  exercise  by  requir- 
ing them  to  determine  what  principle,  or  principles,  of 
elocution  each  reading  lesson  is  best  adapted  to  illustrate. 


KEY    TO    THE    USE    OF    MARKED    LETTERS. 

age  or  age,  a  or  at,  art,  all,  bare,  ask ;  we,  or  we,  end  or 
find,  her ;  ice  or  Ice,  in  or  In ;  old  or  old,  on  or  <5n,  do ;  mute 
01  mute,  up  or  up,  full ;  this ;  azure ;  real,  (not  rel) ;  oVer- 
shoot';  badness,  (not  ntss)]  aged,  (not  djd). 


INDEX   TO   EDITIONS. 


fly  The  figures  refer  to  the  pages  where  the  same  lessons  may  be  found 
in  the  two  editions  of  this  work. 


OLD  ED.  NEW  ED. 

39 40 

41.  ....  ..  39 

43  48 

45 43 

46 57 

49 52 

57.. 63 

58 54 

59 213 

63 58 

65 61 

67  78 

68 72 

69 73 

70 75 

72 46 

80 84 

81 86 

84 81 

86 83 

87 60 

88 93 

97 108 

99 66 

100 67 

103 115 

109 71 

110 70 

113 184 

115 185 

120 130 

122 176 

124 110 

126 120 

131 111 


OLD  ED.  NEW  ED. 

133 113 

135 76 

137 206 

138 95 

142 192 

142 193 

145 195 

147 171 

148 163 

150 188 

153 190 

155 126 

156 128 

158 136 

162 88 

165 144 

167 143 

168 166 

170 98 

172 80 

173 131 

174 145 

176 147 

179 150 

182 153 

185 198 

186 211 

187 90 

189 160 

190 134 

191.. 132 

194 157 

197 92 

199 244 

199 123 


OLD  ED.  NEW  ED 

202 103 

204 101 

206 156 

207 121 

208 217 

210 219 

212 221 

215 199 

216 212 

218 177 

220 179 

221 196 

227 106 

229 253 

230 254 

232 256 

234 258 

236 261 

240 181 

243 105 

244 227 

248 232 

252 245 

254 237 

257 241 

261  251 

262 116 

265 161 

267 265 

269 267 

274 273 

279 277 

280 279 

283 282 


READINGS    AND    RECITATIONS. 


SECTION    I. 
i. 

1.    A    GENTLEMAN. 

"  T3E  very  gentle  with  her,  my  son,"  said  Mrs.  Butler, 
J3  as  she  tied  on  her  little  girl's  bonnet,  and  sent  her 
out  to  play  with  her  elder 1  brother. 

2.  They  had  not  been2  out  very  long  before  a 3  cry  was 
heard,4  and  presently  Julius  came  in  and  threw5  down  his 
hat,  saying,  "I  hate  playing  with  girls!  There's  no  fun 
with  them  :  they  cry  in  a  minute." 

3.  "What  have  you6  been  doing  to  your  sister?  I  see 
her  lying  there  on  the  gravel  walk:  you  have  torn  her 
frock  and  pushed  her  down.  I  am  afraid  you  forgot  my 
caution7  to  be  gentle." 

4.  "Gentle!  Boys  can't8  be  gentle,  mother;  it's  their 
nature9  to  be  rough,  and  hardy,10  and  boisterous.11  They 
are  the  stuff  soldiers  and  sailors  are  made  of.     It's  very 


1  Eld'er,   older ;  having  lived  a 
longer  time. 

2  Been,  (bin). 

8  A,  (a),  see  Rule  2,  p.  23. 

4  Heard,  (h§rd). 

6  Threw,  (thro),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24 

•  You,  (yS). 


7  Caution,    (ka/shun),     advice; 
warning. 

8  Can't,  (kant),  can  not. 

9  Nature,  (nat'y^r),  character. 
10  Hard'y,  bold  ;  brave ;  strong. 

"  Boisterous,  (bais'tSr  us),  hasty  j 
rough ;  noisy. 


40  THIRD    NATIONAL    READER. 

well  to  talk  of  ft  gentle  girl ;  but  a  gentle  boy — it  sounds 
ridiculous  I1  I  should  be  ready  to  knock  a  fellow  down  for 
calling  me  so !" 

5.  "  And  yet,  Julius,  you  would  be  very  angry,  a  few  years 
hence,  if  any  one  were  to  say  you  were  not  a  gentle  man." 

6.  "  A  gentle  man.  I  never  thought  of  dividing  the  word 
in  that  way  before.  Being  gentle  always  seems  to  me  like 
being  weak  and  womanish."2  4F 

7.  "  This  is  so  far  from  being  the  case,  my  son,  that  you 
will  always  find  that  the  bravest  men  are  the  most  gentle. 
The  spirit  of  chivalry3  that  you  so  much  admire,  was  a 
spirit  of  the  noblest  courage  and  the  utmost  gentleness 
combined.4  Still,  I  dare  say  you  would  rather  be  called  a 
manly  than  a  gentle  boy?"     "Yes,  indeed,  mother." 

8.  "  Well,  then,  my  son,  it  is  my  greatest  wish  that  you 
should  endeavor  to  unite  the  two.  Show  yourself  manly, 
when  you  are  exposed  to  danger  or  see  others  in  peril ; 5  be 
manly  when  called  on  to  speak  the  truth,6  though  the  speak- 
ing of  it  may  bring  reproach 7  upon  you ;  be  manly  when 
you  are  in  sickness  and  pain." 

9.  "At  the  same  time  be  gentle,  whether  you  be  with 
females  or  with  men ;  be  gentle  toward  all  men.  By  put- 
ting the  two  qualities  together,  you  will  deserve  a  name 
which,  perhaps,  you  will  not  so  greatly  object  to." 

10.  "I  see  what  you  mean,  dear  mother,  and  I  will  en- 
deavor to  be  what  you  wish — a  gentlemanly  boy." 

T.  S.  Authuk. 

n. 

2.     TRUE    RICHES. 

A  LITTLE  boy  sat  by  his  mother.  He  looked  long 
into  the  fire,  and  was  silent.  Then,  as  the  deep 
thought  passed  away,  his  eye  brightened,  and  he  spoke : 
"Mother,  I  will  be  rich." 

1  Ridiculous,  (ri  dik'yu  lus),  fitted  .  ners,  or  customs  of  knights ;  milit> 
to  cause  laughter.  ary  glory. 

*  Womanish,  (wiW  an  Ish),  hav-        4  Com  bined',  joined  together, 
ing  the  qualities  of  a  woman  ;  not        6  Peril,  instant  or  quick  danger, 
becoming  a  man.  •  Truth,  (troth),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24 

*  Chivalry.  (Bhfv&|  rT),  tbp  man  *  Reproach',  abuse  or  hlamf 


TRUE    RICHES. 


41 


2,  "Why  do  you  wish  to  be  rich,  my  son?"  And  the 
child  said,  "  Every  one  praises  the  rich.  Every  one  asks 
after  the  rich.  The  stranger  at  our  table  yesterday,  asked 
who  was  the  richest  man  in  the  village. 


3.  "  At  school  there  is  a  boy  who  does  not  love  to  learn. 
He  can  not  well  say  his  lesson.  Sometimes  he  speaks  evil 
words.  But  the  other  children  do  not  blame  him,  for  they 
Bay  he  is  a  wealthy 1  boy." 

4.  Then  the  mother  saw  that  her  child  was  in  danger  of 
thinking  that  wealth  might  stand  in  the  place  of  goodness, 
or  be  an  excuse  for  indolence,2  or  cause  them  to  be  held 
in  honor  who  lead  evil  lives. 


1  Wealth'y,  rich ;  having  much 
more  property  than  is  common. 


*  In'  do  lerice,  a  habit  of  being 
idle  ;  laziness. 


42  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

5.  So  she  said,  "  What  is  it  to  be  rich  ?"  And  he  an- 
swered,1 "I  do  not  know.  Tell  me  what  I  must  do  to 
become  rich,  that  all  may  ask  after  me  and  praise  me." 

6.  The  mother  replied,  "  To  become  rich,  is  to  get  money. 
For  this  you  must  wait  until  you  are  a  man."  Then  the 
boy  looked  sorrowful,  and  said,  "  Is  there  not  some  other 
vray  of  being  rich,  that  I  may  begin  now  ?" 

7.  She  answered,  "  The  gain  of  money  is  not  the  only, 
nor  the  true  wealth.  Fires  may  burn 2  it,  the  floods  drown 
it,  the  winds  sweep  it  away.  Moth3  and  rust  waste  it,  and 
the  robber  makes  it  his  prey.4  i 

8.  "  Men  are  wearied  with  the  toil  of  getting  it,  but  they 
leave  it  behind  at  last.  They  die,  and  carry  nothing5  away. 
The  soul  of  the  richest  prince  goeth  forth  like  that  of  the 
wayside  beggar,  wifhout  a  garment. 

9.  "  There  is  another  kind  of  riches,  which  is  not  kept 
in  the  purse,6  but  in  the  heart.  Those  who  possess  them 
are  not  always  praised  by  men,  but  they  have  the  praise 
of  God." 

10.  Then  said  the  boy,  "  May  I  begin  to  gather  this  kind 
of  riches  now,  or  'niust  I  wait  till  I  grow  up,  and  am  a 
man?"  The  mother  laid  her  hand  upon  his  little  head,  and 
said,  "To-day,  if  ye  will  hear  His  voice ;  for  He  hath  prom- 
ised, those  who  seek  early,7  shall  find." 

11.  And  the  child  said  earnestly,8  "  Teach  me  how  I  may 
become  rich  before  God."  Then  she  looked  tenderly  in  his 
face,  and  said,  "  Kneel  down,  every  night  and  morning,  and 
ask  that  the  love  of  the  dear  Saviour9  may  dwell  in  your 
heart.  Obey  His  word,  and  strive  all  the  days  of  your  life 
to  be  good,  and  to  do  good  to  all.     So,  if  you  are  poor  in 


1  Answered,  (an'sSrd).  "  Purse,  (p£rs),  a  email  "bag,  the 

a  Burn,  (bern).  opening  of  which  is  made  to  draw 

3  Moth,    (moth),  an  insect   that  up  closely,  used  to  cany  money  in. 
breeds  in  woolen  garments,  and  eats  7  Early,   (eYli),  in  good  season  ; 
holes  in  them.  before  the  usual  time. 

4  Prey,  (pra),  plunder ;  something  8  Earnestly,  (eY  nest  11),  eagerly ; 
stolen,  or  taken  by  force.  warmly. 

5  Nothing,   (nuth'ing),  not  any*  9  Saviour,  (sav'yor),  Jesus  Christ 
thing ;  no  thing.  who  died  to  save  sinners. 


GOD    IS    EVERYWHERE.  43 

this  world,1  you  shall  be  rich  in  faith,  and  an  heir2  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  Mks.  Sigoukney, 

m. 

3.    GOD    IS    EVERYWHERE. 

"  /^  OME,  Edith,  and  look  at  the  ship  sailing  out  of  the 
v_y  bay," 3  said  Charles  to  his  sister.     "  See  how  grace- 
fully she  floats  upon  the  water.    She  is  going  far  away,  thou- 
sands of  miles,  and  will  not  be  back  for  many  months." 

2.  "  Perhaps  she  will  never  come  back,"  said  Edith,  as  she 
came  to  the  window,  and  stood,  with  her  brother,  looking 
at  the  noble  vessel,  just  sailing  out  upon  the  broad,  path- 
less,4 stormy  ocean.     "  I  would  not  be  in  her  for  the  world !" 

3.  "  Why  not,  Edith  ?"  asked  Charles.  "  Oh !  I  am  sure 
E  should  be  drowned,"  replied  the  little  girl. 

4.  "  You  would  be  just  as  safe  as  you  are  here,"  said 
Charles.  "  You  know,  father  tells  us  that  we  are  as  safe  in 
one  place  as  in  another ;  for  the  Lord,  who  takes  care  of 
us,  is  everywhere." 

5.  "  But  think  how  many  people  are  drowned  at  sea, 
Charles."  "  And  think  how  many  pedple  are  -killed  on  the 
land,"  replied  Charles.  "  Don't  you  remember  the  anec- 
dote5 father  told  us  one  day  about  a  sailor? 

6.  "  There  was6  a  great  storm,  and  the  ship  was  in  much 
danger.     Many  of  the  passengers  were  terribly  frightened,  ' 
but  this  sailor  was  as  calm  as  if  the  sun  was  shining  above, 
and  the  sea  undisturbed  below. 

7.  '  Are  you  not  afraid  ?'  said  one  of  the  passengers.  '  No,' 
replied  the  sailor,  *  why  should  I  be  afraid?'  'We  may  all 
be  drowned,'  said  the  passenger.  '  All  of  us  have  once  to 
die,'  calmly  returned  the  sailor. 

:  "World,  (wlrld).  4  Pathless,  (path'  les),  having  ao 

2  Heir,  (ar),  one  who  receives;  or    path ;  untrodden. 

has  the  right  to  receive,  property  on  *  Anecdote,  (an'  ek  d6t),  a  par* 

the  death  of  another.  ticular  fact  or    single    passage    of 

3  Bay,  (ba),  an  inlet  of  the  sea  ;  a  private  life ;  a  short  story, 
branch  of  some  large  body  of  water.  °  Was,  (woz) 
extending  into  the  land. 


44  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

8.  "  The  passenger  was  surprised  to  see  the  man's  com* 
posure.1  'Have  yon  followed  the  sea  long?'  he  asked, 
'Ever  since  I  was  a  boy;  and  my  father  followed  it  befoie 
me.' 

9.  "  *  Indeed !  And  where  did  your  father  die  T  '  He 
was  drowned  at  sea,'  replied  the  sailor.  '  And  your  grand- 
father, where  did  he  die  ?'  '  He  was  also  drowned  at  sea, 
said  the  sailor.^  '  Father  and  grandfather  drowned  at  sea  ! 
exclaimed  the  passenger  in  astonishment,  'and  you  not 
afraid  to  go  to  sea  ?'  '  No !  God  is  everywhere/  said  the 
sailor  reverently.2 

10.  " '  And  now,'  he  added,  after  pausing  a  moment, '  may 
I  ask  you  where  your  father  died  ?'  '  In  his  bed,'  replied 
the  passenger.  '  And  where  did  his  father  die  ?'  '  In  his 
bed,'  was  again  answered.  'Are  you  not,  then,  afraid  to 
go  to  bed,'  said  the  sailor,  '  if  your  father  and  grandfather 
both  died  there?'" 

11.  "  Oh  yes !  I  remember  it  very  well  now,"  said  Edith. 
"  I  know  that  the  Lord  takes  care  of  us  always,  wherever 
we  may  be.     I  know  that  he  is  everywhere  present." 

12.  "  And  he  will  take  as  good  care  of  the  people  in  that 
ship  as  he  does  of  those  who  are  on  the  land,"  replied 
Charles.  "  Father  says  that  we  should  always  go  where 
our  duties  call  us,  whether  it  be  upon  land  or  upon  sea,  for 
the  Lord  can  and  will  protect  us  as  much  in  one  place  as 
in  another."  T.  S.  Authub. 

It. 

4.     THE    WILLOW,    POPPY,    AND    VIOLET. 

A  CHILD  held  in  his  hand  a  slight,3  leafless  bough.' 
It  was  like  a  supple 5  green  wand.6  But  it  had  been 
newly  cut  from  the  parent  tree,  and  life  still  stirred  in  its 
little  heart. 

1  Composure,  (k6m  p6'  zer),  calm-  *  Bough,  (bou),  a  branch,  or  limb 

ness ;  freedom  from  passion  or  fear,  of  a  tree. 

3  Rev'  er  ent  ly,  humbly ;  with  *  Sup'  pie,  easily  bent 

great  respect.  6  "Wand,  (wand),  a  long,  slendei 

3  Slight,  weak  ;  thin.  staff  or  rod. 


THE    WILLOW,  POPPY,  AND    VIOLET.  45 

2.  He  sought  out  a  sheltered  spot,  and  planted  it  in  the 
moist  earth.  Often x  did  he  visit  it,  and  when  the  rains  of 
summer  were  withheld,  he  watered  it  at  the  cool  sunset. 

3.  The  sap,  which  is  the  blood  of  plants,  began  to  flow 
freely  through2  its  tender  vessels.  A  tiny3  root,4  like  a 
thread,  crept  downward ;  and  around'  the  head  there  was  a 
bursting  forth  of  faint-green  leaves. 

4.  Seasons  passed  over  it,  and  it  became  a  tree-  Its 
slender  branches  drooped  downward  to  the  earth.  The 
cheering  sun  shone  upon  them,  and  the  young  birds  sang 
among  them — but  they  drooped  still. 

5.  "My  tree,  why  art  thou  always  so  sad  and  drooping? 
Am  I  not  kind  unto  thee  ?"  But  it  answered  not.  Only  as 
it  grew  on,  it  drooped  lower  and  lower;  for  it  was  a 
weeping  willow. 

6.  The  child  cast  a  seed  into  the  soft  garden  mold.5 
"When  the  time  of  flowers  was  come,  a  budding  stalk  stood 
there,  with  thin,  serrated6  leaves.  Then  a  thick,  red  poppy 
came  forth,  glorying  in  its  gaudy7  attire.8 

7.  At  its  feet  grew9  a  purple 10  violet,  which  no  hand  had 
planted  or  cherished.11  But  it  lived  lovingly  with  the 
mosses,  and  with  the  flowers  of  the  grass;  not  counting 
itself  more  excellent  than  they. 

8.  "  Bright  '  poppy,'*  said  the  child,  "  why  dost 12  thou 
spread  out  thy  scarlet 13  dress  so  widely,  and  drink  up  all 
the  sunbeams  from  the  poor  violet?" 

9.  Then  the  flaunting 14  flower  opened  its  rich  silk  mantle 
still  more  broadly,  as  though  it  would  have  stifled15  its 

1  Often,  (6f  n),  many  times.  8  At  tire',  clothes ;  rich  dress. 

2  Through,   (thr5),   from   end   to        8  Grew,  (gr6),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24. 
end  of,  or  from  side  to  side  of.  '»  Purple,  (per'  pi),  a  color  made 

3  Ti'  ny,  very  small ;  puny ;  little,  of  blue  and  red, — most  red. 

4  Root,  (r6t\  that  part  of  a  plant  ]1  Cherished,  (cher'  feht),  treated 
which  shoots  into  the  earth,  and  with  tenderness  and  care. 

feeds  the  upper  parts.  i2  Dost,  (dust). 

5  Mold,  fine,  soft  earth.  "  Scar'  let,     of     an    orange-red 

6  Serrated,    (ser'  ra  ted),    having    color  ;  bright-red. 

sharp  notches  about  the  edge,  point-        H  Flaunting,     (flant'  ing),     very 
;ng  to  the  end  ;  notched  like  a  saw.     vain  and  showy. 

7  Gaudy,  (gad  ?).  very  gay;  showy.         Ir  Sti'  fled,  choked  ;  concealed 


46  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

humble l  neighbors.     Yet  nothing 2  hindered  the  fragrance  * 
of  the  violet, 

10.  The  little  child  was  troubled,  and  at  the  hour  of  sleep 
he  spake  to  his  mother  of  the  willow  that  wept,  and  of  the 
poppy  that  overshadowed  the  violet. 

11.  Then  she  said,  "  There  are  some  who  are  weepers  all 
their  lives  long,  though  they  dwell  in  pleasant  places,  and 
ihe  fair  skies  smile  upon  them.  And  there  are  others  who 
are  proud  at  heart,  and  despise  the  humble  whom  God 
regardeth. 

12.  "  But  keep  thou  ever  in  thy  breast,  gentle  child,  the 
spirit  of  the  sweet  and  lowly  violet,  that  thou  mayest  come 
at  last  to  that  place  where  pride  can  not  enter,  and  where 
the  voice  of  weeping  is  no  more  heard." 

Mrs.  Sigoukney. 

V. 

5.     THE    GOOD    ARE    BEAUTIFUL. 

"  ^\H!    what  an  ugly4  little  creature,"5  said  a  person, 
V_y  turning  away  from  a  very  homely 6  child,  with  a  look 
of  disgust7  upon  her  face. 

2.  "  She  will  be  beautiful  in  heaven,  ma'am," 8  replied  a 
plainly  dressed  woman,  who  overheard  the  remark. 

3.  "Will  she,  indeed!"  returned  the  individual  who 
spoke  so  lightly  of  the  homely  child.  "  I  should  like  to 
know  how  you  can  tell  that." 

4.  "  In  the  other  life,"  returned  the  woman,  "  the  good 
are  all  beautiful,  and  the  evil  deformed9  and  ugly.  No 
matter  how  fair 10  a  face  a  person  may  have  had  in  this  life, 
it  will,  in  the  next  world,  be  changed  into  beauty  or  ugli- 
ness, according  as  he  has  been  good  or  evil." 

:  Hum'  ble,  modest ;  lowly.  7  Dis  gust',  displeasure ;  dislike. 

*  Nothing,  (nuth'  ing),  no  tiling.  8  Ma'am,    (mam),    madam  ;    my 

3  Fra'  grance,  sweet  smell.  lady. 

4  "Og'  iy.  offensive  to  the  sight.  9  De  formed',  marred,  or  changed 
6  Creature,  (kref  y&r),  anything  in  form  ;  deprived  of  beauty. 

created ;  an  animal ,  a  man.  10  Fair,  (far),  free  from  spots,  specks 

6  Home'  ly,  of  plain  features ;  not    dirt,  etc.;  pleasing  to  the  eye 
handsome. 


THE    VOICE    OF    SPRING.  47 

5.  "  How  do  you  know  this  ?"  inquired  the  first  speaker. 
"  Any  one  who  opens  his  eyes  may  see  and  know  that  this 
will  be  true,"  was  replied. 

6.  "  Is  not  the  most  beautiful  face  rendered  disagreeable 
when  any  bad  passion  is  felt  and  exhibited? l  And  does  not 
the  homeliest  face  become  pleasant  to  look  upon  when  good 
affections  are  in  the  heart  ? 

7.  "  In  the  other  life,  we  shall  all  appear  as  we  really 
are ;  and,  of  course,  evil  passions  will  deform  the  face,  and 
good  affections  make  it  beautiful.  And  she  will  be  beauti- 
ful in  heaven,  for  she  is  a  good  little  girl,  homely  as  her 
face  now  is."  T.  S.  Arthuil 


SECTION   II. 
i. 

6.     THE    VOICE    OF    SPRING. 

I  AM  coming,  little  maiden,2 
"With  the  pleasant  sunshine  laden ; 
"With  the  honey  for  the  bee ; 
With  the  blossom  for  the  tree  ; 
With  the  flower  and  with  the  leaf : 
Till  I  come  the  time  is  brief.3 

2.  I  am  coming,  I  am  coming ! 

Hark !  the  little  bee  is  humming ; 
See !  the  lark  is  soaring  '-high. 
In  the  bright  and  sunny  sky, 
And  the  gnats 5  are  on  the  wing : 
Little  maiden,  now  is  Spring ! 

1  Exhibited,  (egz  Mb'  it  ed),  held  <  Soar'ing,  flying  or  ncountius- 
forth  or  presented  to  view ;  shown.  upward,  as  a  bird  in  the  air. 

2  Maiden,  (mad'  n),an  unmarried  6  Gnat,  (nat),  a  very  small  blood- 
woman ;  a  maid.  sucking  kind  of  fiy.     The  females 

8  Brief,  (bref),  short ;  lasting  but    have  stings  and  are  very  vexing 
little  time.  The  males  have  no  stincs. 


48  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

3.  See  the  yellow  catkins1  cover 
All  the  slender  willows  over  ; 
And  on  mossy  banks  so  green 
Starlike  primroses 2  are  seen ; 
Every  little  stream  is  bright ; 
All  the  orchard  trees  are  white. 

iL  Hark !  the  little  lambs  are  bleating, 
And  the  cawing 3  rooks 4  are  meeting 
In  the  elms — a  noisy  crowd ; 
And  all  birds  are  singing  loud ; 
And  the  first  white  butterfly 
In  the  sun  goes  flitting  by. 

5.    Turn  thy  eyes  to  earth  and  heaven : 
God  for  thee  the  Spring  has  given, 
Taught  the  birds  their  melodies, 
Clothed  the  earth,  and  cleared  the  skies, 
For  thy  pleasure  or  thy  food — 
Pour  thy  soul  in  gratitude ! 5 


Mary  Howitt. 


n. 

7.     SPRING. 


THOU  lovely  and  glorious  Spring, 
Descending  to  us  from  the  sky, 
I  praise  thee  for  coming  to  bring 
Such  beautiful  things  to  my  eye ! 


1  Cat'  kin,  a  kind  of  a  flower,  con-  3  Caw'  ing,  making  a  noise  like 
sisting  of  a  scaly  sort  of  spike  which  the  cry  of  a  crow,  or  as  if  repeating 
hangs  from  the  hazel,  birch,  oak,  the  word  caw. 

willow,  poplar,  etc.;  so  called  from  4  Rook,  (ruk),  a  bird  that  looks 

its  looking  somewhat  like  a  cat's  much  like  the  crow,  but  which  feeds 

tail.  mostly  on  seeds  and  grain,  instead 

2  Prim'  rose,  an  early  flowering  of  the  flesh  of  dead  and  decaying 
plant,  closely  related  to  the  cowslip,  animals. 

of  several  kinds,  as  the  white,  the  5  Graf  i  tude,  warm  and  friendly 

red.  the  yellow-flowered,  etc.  feeling  toward  a  giver ;  thankfulness 


SPRING.  'v  49 

2.  For,  bearing l  thine  arms  full  of  flowers 

To  strew 2  o'er  the  earth,  hast  thou  come, 
Adorning3  this  low  world  of  ours 

With  brightness  like  that  of  thy  home. 

3.  And  thou  hast  brought  back  the  gay  birds, 

Their  songs  full  of  gladness  to  sing — 
To  give,  in  their  musical  words, 

Their  sweet  little  anthems4  to  Spring! 

4.  The  roots  thou  hast  watered  and  fed ; 

The  leaves  thou  hast  opened  anew ; 
The  violet  lifts  its  meek  head, 

And  seems  as  'twere  praising  thee  too. 

5.  The  hills  thou  hast  made  to  rejoice, 

And  all  their  young  buds  to  unfold : 
The  cowslips  spring  up  at  thy  voice, 
And  dot  the  green  meadows  with  gold. 

6.  The  brooks  o'er  the  pebbles  that  run 

Are  sounding  thy  praise  as  they  go  ; 
The  grass  points  its  blades  to  the  sun, 
And  thanks  thee  for  making  them  grow. 

7.  The  rush  and  the  delicate 5  reed 

Are  waving  in  honor  of  thee, — 
The  lambkins  are  learning  to  feed — 
The  honey-cup's  filled  for  the  bee. 

8.  The  butterfly's  out  on  the  wing— 

The  spices  are  out  on  the  breeze  ; 
And  sweet  is  the  breathing  of  Spring 

That  comes  through  the  blossoming  trees ! 

1  Bearing,  (bar'  ing),  carrying,  or        *  An'  them,  a  piece  of  music  set 

Holding  un  to  verses  from  the  Bible,  used  in 

1  Strev/,  (stro),  to  scatter  loosely,  church ;  a  sacred  song  or  hymn. 

»  Adorning,    (a  darn'  ing),  orna-        6  Del'  i  cate,  light  and  yielding, 
meriting  ;  making  beautiful. 

3 


50  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

9.  The  forest,1  the  grove,2  and  the  vine, 
In  festival3  vestures4  are  clad, 
To  show  that  a  presence  like  thine 
Is  making  them  grateful  and  glad. 

10.  The  earth  and  the  waters  are  bright — 

The  skies  are  all  beaming 5  and  mild  5 
And  oh !  with  iinmingled6  delight 

Thy  charms  fill  the  heart  of  the  child! 

11.  Sweet  Spring !  'twas  my  Maker  made  thee, 

And  sent  thee  to  brighten  our  days ! 
Thine  aim  is  his  glory,  I  see  : — 
I'll  join  thee  in  giving  him  praise. 

12.  My  heart  seems  to  sing  like  the  birds  ; — 

Like  blossoms  to  open  with  love, 
Which  God  will,  as  music  and  words, 
Receive  for  my  anthem  above. 


H.  F.  Gould. 


m. 

8.     SPRING    RAIN. 

THE  lark  sits  high  on  the  walnut 7  tree, 
And  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains ; 
A  jolly8  philosopher9  sure10  is  he, 
"While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains ; 

1  Forest,  (fSr'  est),  a  large  wood,-  6  Beam'  ing,  sending  forth  rays 

a  large  tract  of  land  covered  with  of  light ;  shining, 

trees.  6  Unmingled,  (un  mlng'  gld),  sep. 

a  Grove,  a  cluster  of  shade  trees ;  arated ;  unmixed, 

a  group  of   trees,  without  under-  T  Walnut,  (wol'  nut), 

wood,  smaller  than  a  forest ;  a  small  8  Jol'  ly,  full  of  life  and  mirth  5 

wood.  merry. 

1  Fes'  ti  val,  relating  to  a  feast ;  9  Philosopher,   (fl  lbs'  6  f&r),  one 

joyous;  gay.  who  searches  into  the    reason   of 

*  Vestures,    (vest'  yorz),    dress  ;  things  ;  a  wise  person, 

garments.  10  Sure,  (sh6r),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24. 


SPRING    RAIN.  51 

Bliftiely *  he  looks  at  the  meadow 2  below, 
Where  the  nest  will  be  when  the  grass-blades  grow, 
And  pours  out  his  song  in  a  liquid 3  flow, 
While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains. 

2.  The  crocuses 4  put  up  their  little  heads 

While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains, 
And  the  pink  spires  spring  from  their  chilly  beds, 

While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains ; 
The  peach  blossoms  whisper  within  their  cells, 
"  We'll  open  our  eyes,  and  peep  from  our  bells, 

While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains." 

3.  All  nature  seems  happy  as  happy  can  be 

While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains, 
But  restless  mortals,  like  you  and  me, 

While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains, 
Look  out  of  the  windows  in  discontent,5 
And  wonder  why  showers  to-day  are  sent, 
Our  plans  and  pleasures  to  so  prevent ; — 

Why,  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains. 

4   The  lark  knows  well  that  God  knows  best 

The  need  of  the  spring-time  rains, 
That  the  summer  sunshine  will  warm  his  nest 

After  the  spring-time  rains, 
The  grass  in  the  meadow  more  greenly  grow, 
And  the  corn-blades  wave  in  the  valley  below, 

After  these  spring-time  rains. 

5.   Let  us,  like  him,  look  cheerily6  on 
While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains ; 
Waiting  with  faith 7  till  the  storm  is  gone, 
While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains  ; 

1  Blithely,  (bllfh'  li),  in  a  gay  and  4  Cro'  cus,  a  beautiful  plant  that 

joyful  manner  ;  cheerfully.  blossoms  early  in  the  spring. 

3  Me  ado  w,  (med'  6),  a  grass  field  B  Dis^  con  tent',  not  content ;  un- 

from  which  hay  is  cut.  easy. 

3  L  i  q  u  i  d,     (Ilk'  w!d),     flowing  6  Cheer'  i  ly,  with  good  spirits, 

smoothly  or  easily,  like  water.  7  Faith,  belief ;  trust. 


52  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

We  know  that  above  the  cloud  'tis  light, 
And  the  heavens  are  shining  in  beauty  bright, 
While  it  rains,  it  rains,  it  rains. 


IV. 

9.    THE    RAIN-LESSON. 

"  ^\  yrOTHEE,  it  rains !"  and  tears  like  rain  fell  down, 
-lyjL  "  O,  little  daughter,  see  the  plants  rejoice  ; 
The  rose-buds  blush,  and  in  your  garden-bed 
The  drooping  violets  look  so  gladly  up, 
Blessing  our  God  for  rain.     He  knows  what's  best.5' 

2.  "  Yes,  mother,  he  knows  every  thing.     And  so, 
He  surely  knows  there's  but  one  afternoon 

In  all  the  week  that  I  can  have  from  school, 
And  'tis  the  third  that  I've  had  leave  to  go 
And  play  with  Mary,  if  it  did  not  rain, 
And  gather  wild-flowers  in  her  father's  grove, 
And  now  it  rains  again." x 

3.  The  mother  took 
The  mourner 2  on  her  knee,  and  kissed  away 
The  blinding  grief.     And  then  she  told  her  tales 
Of  the  great  eastern  deserts 3  parch'd  and  dry, 
And  how  the  traveler  'mid  the  burning  sands 
Watches  for  rain-clouds  with  a  fainting  gaze, 
And  show'd  her  pictures  of  the  caravan,4 

And  the  poor  camel  with  his  outstretch' d  neck 
Longing  for  water. 

4.  And  she  told  her,  too, 
Of  the  sad  mother  in  the  wilderness,5 

i  Again,  (a  gen'),  another  time;  4  Caravan,  (kar'  a  van),  a  compa. 

once  more.  ny  of  travelers  with  their  horses, 

2  Mourn'  er,  one  who  grieves.  camels,  etc. 

3  Deserts,  (dez'  Srts),  places  where  6  Wil  der  ness,  deserted  places ; 
nothing  grows ;  generally  sandy  or  wild  woods,  or  wide,  unfruitful 
rocky  places.  plains,  where  man  does  not  dwell. 


THE    RAIN-LESSON. 


53 


o. 


And  the  spent  water-bottle  ;  how  she  laid 
Her  darling  son  among  the  shrubs  to  die, 
Bowing  her  head  down  that  she  might  not  see 
The  agony 1  of  the  long  death  from  thirst ; 
And  how  the  blessed  angel,  when  she  pray'd, 
Brought  water  from  the  skies,  to  save  her  child. 

And  other  stories  from  the  Book  of  God 2 
Breath'd  that  kind  teacher  to  the  listening3  one 
Seated  so  meek  beside  her ;  how  there  fell 
No  rain  in  Israel,4  till  the  grass  decay' d 


1  Ag'  o  ny,  extreme  pain. 
a  Book  of  God,  the  Bible. 


?  Listening,  (Its'  n  fng). 
<  Israel,  (!z'  ra  el). 


54  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

And  the  brooks  wasted,  and  the  cattle  died, 
And  good  Elijah  with  his  earnest  prayer 
Besought  the  Lord,  till  the  consenting  cloud 
Gave  rain,  and  thankful  earth  her  fruits l  restor'd. 

6.  And  then  they  sang  a  hymn,  and  full  of  joy 
The  baby,  crowing  from  his  nurse's  arms, 
Came  in  and  join'd  them,  creeping  merrily 
After  his  little  sister,  till  her  pain 

Of  disappointment  all  absorb'd 2  in  love, 
She  thank'd  her  mother  for  the  pleasant  time 
And  for  her  tender  lessons. 

7.  So,  that  night, 
Amid  her  simple  prayer,  they  heard  her  say 
Words  of  sweet  praise  to  Him  whose  mercy  gives 
The  blessed  rain.     "  For  now  I  know,  dear  God, 
What  pleases  Thee  is  best." 

8.  O  Mother !  seek, 
Ever,  through  cloud  and  sunshine,  thus  to  lead 
Thy  little  hearts  to  love  Him  ;  so,  the  tear 
Shall  brighten  like  the  rainbow  here,  and  gleam 
At  last,  a  pearl-drop  in  thy  crown  of  life. 

Mrs.  Sigourney. 


SECTION   III. 
i. 

10.     THE    TORTOISE    AND    THE    SWALLOW. 
A   FABLE.3 

ONE  beautiful  day  in  the  spring,  a  tortoise 4  crept  out  of 
his  hole,  where  he  had  been  sleeping  all  winter.     He 
thrust  his  head  out  of  the  shell  to  search  for  the  new  grass, 

1  Fruits,  (fr8tz),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24  something  useful.    All  the  lessons 

3  Absorbed,  (ab  sarbd'),  swallow-  in  this  Section  are  fables. 

ed  up ;  wholly  lost.  *  Tortoise,  (tar'tis),  a  turtle, — 

8  Fa'  ble,  a  false  story,  told  as  if  commonly  meaning  a  kind  of  turtle 

true,  intended  to  amuse  or  to  teach  that  lives  on  land. 


THE    TORTOISE    AND    THE    SWALLOW.  55 

and  to  feel  the  warm  sun,  and  determined  to  take  a  turn 
round  the  garden  in  which  he  lived. 

2.  As  the  tortoise  crawled  slowly  along,  he  perceived  a 
swallow,  that  was  flying  far  above  his  head,  chirping  the 
first  notes  he  had  heard.  The  swallow  at  the  same  moment 
espied 1  the  tortoise.  She  remembered  to  have  seen  him 
swimming  in  the  brook  which  flowed  at  the  bottom  of  the 
garden,  and  near  which  stood  the  summer-house  where  her 
own  nest  had  been  fixed  for  many  seasons.2  The  swallow 
immediately  descended  to  the  ground,  and  addressed  her 
old  acquaintance. 

3.  "  How  fare  you,  my  old  friend  ?  How  have  you  lived 
since  we  parted  last  autumn  ?" 3  "  Thank  you,"  replied  the 
tortoise,  "I  have  kept  house  all  winter,  and  never  once 
stirred  out,  till  the  ice  and  snow  disappeared.  I  have  been 
very  quiet  and  comfortable." 

4.  "I,"  continued  the  swallow,  "  do  not  love  cold  weather 
better  than  you ;  but  as  soon  as  I  hear  the  loud  wind  of 
winter  I  fly  to  the  south :  in  a  few  days  I  come  to  fresh 
flowers  and  green  fields ;  there  I  chase  the  gay  butterflies 
and  the  stinging  gnats.  I  sleep  among  the  trees,  and  sing 
my  morning  song  to  my  new  friends.  As  soon  as  spring 
comes  again,  I  seek  my  summer  home ;  and  now  I  rejoice 
to  see  this  delightful  garden  once  more." 

5.  "  You  take  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  your  long  flights," 
answered  the  tortoise ;  "  you  are  always  changing  from  one 
place  to  another :  you  had  better,  like  me,  go  to  sleep  in 
some  safe  corner  and  take  a  half4  year's  nap." 

6.  "  A  pleasant  nap,  indeed,"  replied  the  swallow ;  "  when 
I  have  neither  wings  to  fly,  nor  eyes  to  see,  I  may  follow 
such  a  bright  example.  The  use  of  life  is  to  enjoy  it ;  the 
use  of  time  is  to  employ  it  properly.  One  might  as  well  be 
quite  dead  as  asleep  half  one's  days,  like  you,  you  stupid1 

'Espied',    perceived    with    the  '  Au'tumnjhe  third  season  of 

eyes ;  caught  sight  of.  the    year,  or  the    season  between 

2  Season,  (se'  zn),  one  of  the  four  summer  and  winter, 

parts  of  the  year,  spring,  summer,  4  Half,  (haf). 

autumn,  winter ;  a  portion  of  time.  •  Stupid,  very  dull :  idle  and  lazy. 


56  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

dunce !" l  Saying  this,  away  he  soared,  high  in  the  sky, 
and  left  the  contented  tortoise  to  make  the  best  of  his  way 
home. 

7.  Which,  think  you,  is  the  happier — the  tortoise  or  the 
swallow?     Both  are  very  happy — each  in  his  own  way. 

n. 

11.     THE    ROOK    AND    THE    LARK. 

"  r*i  OOD-NIGHT,  Sir  Book,"  said  a  little  lark; 
V-X  "  The  daylight  fades — it  will  soon  be  dark : 
I've  bathed  my  wings  in  the  sun's  last  ray, 
I've  sung  my  hymn  to  the  dying  day ; 
So  now  I  haste  to  my  quiet  nook2 
In  yon  dewy  meadow ; — good-night,  Sir  Book." 

2.  "  Good-night,  poor  Lark,"  said  his  titled3  friend, 
"Wifh  a  haughty4  toss  and  a  distant  bend ; 

"  I  also  go  to  a  rest  profound, 

But  not  to  sleep  on  the  cold,  damp  ground ; 

The  fittest  place  for  a  bird  like  me 

Is  the  topmost  bough  of  yon  tall  pine-tree. 

3.  "  I  opened  my  eyes  at  peep  of  day, 
And  saw  you  taking  your  upward  way, 
Dreaming  your  fond  romantic 5  dreams, 
An  ugly  speck  in  the  sun's  bright  beams ; 
Soaring  too  high  to  be  seen  or  heard — 
And  I  said  to  myself,  What  a  f oolish  bird ! 

4.  "I  trod  the  park,  wifh  a  princely  air ; 
I  filled  my  crop  with  the  richest  fare ; 
I  cawed  all  day  'mid  a  lordly  crew, 

And  I  made  more  noise  in  the  world  than  you ! 

1  Dunce,  a  person  of  weak  mind  ;  superior.     Rook  is  also  the  name  of 

one  who  is  slow  to  learn  or  under-  an  important  piece  used  in  chess, 

stand.  4  Haughty,  (ha'  ti),  high  j  proud 

3  Nook,  (n6k),  a  corner ;  a  con-  and  scornful, 

cealed  place.  6  Ro  man'  tic,  wild  ;  fanciful. 

3  Ti'  tied,  having  a  title, — called  *  Park,  a  piece  of  ground,  fenced 

Sir  Rook,  because  here  regarded  as  and  kept  for  walking,  riding,  etc 


THE  HORSE  AND  THE  GOOSE. 


57 


The  sun  shone  full  on  my  ebon l  wing ; 

I  looked  and  wondered ; — good-night,  poor  1  aing !" 

5.   "  Good-night,  once  more,"  said  the  lark's  sweet  voice ; 
"  I  see  no  cause  to  repent  of  my  choice ; 
You  build  your  nest  in  the  lofty  pine, 
But  is  your  slumber  more  soft  than  mine  ? 
You  make  more  noise  in  the  world  than  I, 
But  whose  is  the  sweeter  minstrelsy  ?" 2 


in. 

12.  THE  HORSE  AND  THE  GOOSE. 

A  GOOSE,  that  was  plucking  grass  by  the  roadside, 
-£^-  thought  herself  affronted 3  by  a  horse  who  fed  near 
ber,  and  in  hissing  accents  thus  addressed  him :  "  I  am 


1  Eb'  on,  dark  ;  black  as  ebony. 
3  Min'  atrel  sy,  singing  ;  music. 


3  Affronted,  (af  frunt'  eel),  insult 
ed  ;  treated  with  disrespect. 


58  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

certainly  a  more  noble  and  perfect  animal  than  you :  all 
your  faculties l  are  confined  to  one  element „2 

2.  "  I  can  walk  upon  the  earth  as  well  as  you ;  I  have 
besides  wings  with,  which  I  raise  myself  in  the  air,  and 
when  I  please  I  can  sport  in  ponds  and  lakes,  and  refresh 
myself  in  the  cool  waters  :  I  enjoy  the  different  powers  of 
a  bird,  a  fish,  and  a  quadruped." 3 

3.  The  horse  replied  wifti  disdain,4  "  It  is  true  you  inhabit 
three  elements,  but  you  do  not  appear  well  in  any  of  them. 
You  fly,  but  can  you  compare  your  flight  with  the  lark  or 
the  swallow? 

4  "  You  can  swim  on  the  surface  of  the  waters,  but  you 
can  not  live  in  them  as  fishes  do ;  you  can  not  find  your 
food  in  them,  nor  glide  smoothly  along  the  bottom  of  the 
waves. 

5.  "  "When  you  walk  upon  the  ground  with  your  broad 
feet,  stretching  out  your  long  neck,  and  hissing  at  every 
one  who  passes  by,  all  beholders  laugh  at  you. 

6.  "I  confess  I  am  only  formed  to  walk  on  the  ground- 
but  how  graceful  is  my  shape !  how  well  turned  my  limbs ! 
how  astonishing  my  speed !  how  great  my  strength  t  I  had 
rather  be  confined  to  one  element,  and  be  admired  in  that, 
than  be  a  goose  in  all." 

IV. 

13.    THE    BEE,   CLOVER,   AND   THISTLE. 

A  BEE  from  the  hive  one  morning  flew, 
A  tune  to  the  daylight  humming ; 
And  away  she  went  o'er  the  sparkling  dew, 
Where  the  grass  was  green,  the  violet  blue, 
And  the  gold  of  the  sun  was  coming. 

1  Faculties,    (fak'  ul  tiz),  powers  merits,  while  the  horse  can  live  only 

of  the  mind  and  body.  in  one,  namely,  the  air. 

3  El'  e  ment,    simple    substance.  3  Quadruped,   (kw&d'  r©  ped),  an 

It  used  to  be  thought  that  fire,  air,  animal  having  four  feet, 

earth,  and  water  are  elements.     The  *  Dis  dain',    the    regarding   and 

goose  could  go  in  the  air  or  on  the  declaring  any  thing  as  far  beneath 

water,  and    thus    live  in  two  ele-  one;  scorn. 


THE    BEE,   CLOVER,  AND    THISTLE.  59 

2.  And  what  first  tempted  the  roving  bee, 

Was  a  head  of  the  crimson  clover. 
"  I've  found  a  treasure  betimes !"  said  she ; 
"  And  perhaps  a  greater  I  might  not  see, 

If  I  traveled  the  field  all  over. 

3.  "  My  beautiful  Clover,  so  round  and  red, 

There  is  not  a  thing  in  twenty, 
That  lifts  this  morning  so  sweet  a  head 
Above  its  leaves,  and  its  earthy  bed, 

With  so  many  horns  of  plenty !" * 

4.  The  flow'rets  were  thick  which  the  clover  crowned, 

As  the  plumes 2  in  the  helm 3  of  Hector ; 4 
And  each  had  a  cell  that  was  deep  and  round, 
Yet  it  would  not  impart,  as  the  bee  soon  found, 

One  drop  of  its  precious  nectar.5 

5.  She  cast  in  her  eye  where  the  honey  lay, 

And  her  pipe  she  began  to  measure  ; 
But  she  saw  at  once  it  was  clear  as  day, 
That  it  would  not  go  down  one  half  the  way 

To  the  place  of  the  envied6  treasure. 

6.  Said  she,  in  a  pet,  "  One  thing  I  know," 

As  she  rose,  and  in  haste  departed, 
"  It  is  not  those  of  the  greatest  show, 
To  whom  for  a  favor  'tis  best  to  go, 

Or  that  prove  most  generous-hearted !" 

7.  A  fleecy  flock  came  into  the  field ; 

When  one  of  its  members  followed 
The  scent  of  the  clover,  till  between 
Her  nibbling  teeth  its  head  was  seen, 

And  then  in  a  moment  swallowed. 

1  A  Horn  of  Plenty,  sometimes  3  Helm,  a  military  cap  worn  to 

called  cornucopia,  is  a  horn  filled  protect  the  head  in  "battle, 

with  good  things,  and  is  used  as  an  4  Hec  tor,  the  son  of  Pxdam,  a 

emblem  or  sign  of  prosperity.  brave  Trojan  warrior. 

8  Plumes,  large  feathers  worn  on  6  Nee'  tar,  the  drink  of  the  gods ; 

helmets,  military  hats,  and  ladies'  honey;  any  sweet  drink, 

bonnets.  6  En'  vied,  strongly  desire/V 


60  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

8.  "  Ha,  ha !"  said  the  bee,  as  the  clover  died, 

"  Her  fortune's  smile  was  fickle ! l 
And  now  I  can  get  my  want's  supplied 
By  a  homely  flower  with  a  rough  outside, 

And  even  with  scale  and  prickle !" 

9.  Then  she  flew  to  one,  that,  by  man  and  beast. 

Was  shunned  for  its  stinging  bristle ; 
But  it  injured  not  the  bee  in  the  least ; 
And  she  filled  her  pocket,  and  had  a  feast, 

From  the  bloom  of  the  purple  thistle. 

10.   The  generous  thistle's  life  was  spared 

In  the  home  where  the  bee  first  found  her. 
Till  she  grew  so  old  she  was  hoary-haired,2  . 
And  her  snow-white  locks  with  the  silk  compared, 
As  they  shone  where  the  sun  beamed  round  her. 

H.  F.  Gould. 

V. 
14.     CLASS    OPINIONS. 

A  LAMB  strayed  for  the  first  time  into  the  woods,  and 
excited3  much  discussion4  among  other  animals.  Id 
a  mixed  company,  one  day,  when  he  became  the  subject  of 
a  friendly  gossip,5  the  goat  praised  him. 

2.  "Pooh!"  said  the  Hon,  "this  is  too  absurd.6  The 
beast  is  a  pretty7  beast  enough,  but  did  you  hear  him  roar  ? 
I  heard  him  roar,  and,  by  the  manes 8  of  my  fathers,  when 
he  roars  he  does  nothing  but  cry  ba-a-a !"  And  the  Hon 
bleated  his  best  in  mockery,  but  bleated  far  from  well. 

1  Fick'  le,  changeable  ;  not  con-  5  Gos'  sip,  idle  talk, 

tinuing  long  of  the  same  mind.  6  Absurd,  (ab  serd'),  foolish ;  plain 

*  Hoar'  y-haired,   having  white  ly  against  reason  or  truth, 

or  gray  haira  7  Pretty,    (prit'  ti),    neat ;     fine  ^ 

8  Excited,  (ek  sit'  ed),  provoked  ;  pleasing, 

stirred  up  ;  awakened.  8  Mane,  the   long  hair   growing 

4  Discussion,   (d!s  kush'  un),  de-  upon  or  about  the  neck  of   some 

bate ;  talking  with  others  on  any  animals.     The  male  lions  only  have 

subject.  manes  ;  hence,"  manes  of 'my  fathers." 


THE  BEGGAR  AND  THE  GOOD  BOY.         61 

3.  "  Nay,"  said  the  deer,  "  I  do  not  think  so  badly  of  his 
voice.  I  liked  him  well  enough  until  I  saw  him  leap.  He 
kicks  with  his  hind  legs  in  running,  and,  with  all  his  skip- 
ping, gets  over  very  little  ground." 

4  "It  is  a  bad  beast  altogether,"  said  the  tiger.  "He 
can  not  roar,  he  can  not  run,  he  can  do  nothing — and  what 
wonder  ?  I  killed  a  man  yesterday,  and,  in  politeness  to 
the  new-comer,  offered  him  a  bit ;  upon  which  he  had  the 
impudence1  to  look  disgusted,2  and  say,  'No,  sir,  I  eat 
nothing  but  grass.'  " 

5.  So  the  beasts  criticised3  the  lamb,  each  in  his  own 
way ;  and  yet  it  was  a  good  lamb,  nevertheless* 


SECTION    IY. 
i. 

15.     THE    BEGGAR    AND    THE    GOOD    BOY. 

AMONG  those  who  at  one  time  obtained  a  poor  sub- 
sistence 4  by  begging  from  door  to  door  in  the  streets 
of  London,  was  one  who  went  by  the  name  of  Barber  Mose. 
Very  old  he  seemed  ;  and  only  aged  people  could  remember 
the  (thu)  period5  when  he  was  not  a  beggar,  ragged  and 
bowed  down,  almost  too  lame  to  crawl  his  daily  round, 
and  so  blind  as  to  be  obliged  to  feel  his  way  wifh  a  staff. 

2.  These  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  used  to  tell  a 
story  that  Barber  Mose  was  born  to  a  fortune,6  which,  as 
soon  as  he  possessed,  he  went  abroad  and  squandered,7  as 
was  supposed;  for  he  returned  to  serve  an  apprenticeship8 

1  Im'  pu  dence,    shamelessness  ;        5  Pe'  ri  od,  time. 

want  of  modesty.  6  Fortune,       riches ;     great 

2  Dis  gust'  ed,  offended  ;  greatly     wealth. 


7  Squan'  dered,  spent  foolishly. 
1  Crit' i  cised,  judged;    pointed        8  Ap  pren'  tice  ship,  time  when  a 
out  faults  in.  person  is  learning  a  trade  ;  a  state  in 

4  Sub  sist'  ence,  means  of  living,     which  service  is  given  for  instruction 


62  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

to  a  barber  and  hairdresser,  and  afterward  opened  a  shop 
for  himself. 

3.  Here  he  did  a  good  business,  yet  always  appeared 
poor :  and  when  the  infirmities x  of  age  came  upon  him,  so 
that  he  could  no  longer  pursue  his  employment,  he  betook 
himself  to  an  obscure2  garret,  where  he  had  ever  since 
lived  on  what  was  doled 3  out  to  him  by  the  hand  of  charity. 

4  One  winter's  day,  as  the  old  beggar-man  was  return 
ing  to  the  place  he  called  home,  as  fast  as  his  feeble, 
trembling  limbs  would  let  him,  a  number  of  boys,  just  out 
of  school  and  eager  for  sport,  gathered  around  him,  thus 
preventing  him  from  going  on,  spoke  to  him  insultingly 
about  his  rags  and  poverty,  and  made  believe  they  would 
rob  him  of  the  bit  of  cold  meat  his  blue,  bony  fingers  were 
clutching  so  closely. 

5.  Then  there  came  up  another  boy,  poorly  clad,  but 
with  a  kinder  heart  in  his  bosom,  who  took  the  aged  beg- 
gar's part  against  his  abusers,  and,  in  spite  of  the  jeers 5 
and  laughter  of  the  thoughtless,  cruel  lads,  led  Barber 
Mose  carefully  to  his  garret.  The  beggar  was  very  grate- 
ful, and  inquired  what  was  the  name  of  his  young  benefac- 
tor,6 and  who  was  his  father. 

6.  The  boy  answered  that  his  name  was  John,  and  that 
he  was  the  son  of  Mr.  Doane,  the  locksmith,7  whose  sign 
could  be  seen  just  round  the  corner.  Then  he  left  the  beg- 
gar and  went  home. 

7.  Shortly  after  this  Barber  Mose  died,  when  it  proved 
that  he  was  not  poor,  but  a  miser.8  He  left  a  will,  which, 
only  a  few  days  before  his  death,  he  had  caused  to  be 
drawn  up  in  due  form  of  law.     In  that  will  he  bequeathed* 

1  In  firm'  i  ties,  weaknesses.  8  Benefactor,  (benr  e  fak'  tar),  one 

a  Obscure,   (6b  skur),  dark ;    re-  who  aids  or  benefits  another, 

tired ;  humble.  7  Lock'  smith,  one  who  makes  or 

8  Doled,     given    unwillingly  in  repairs  locks, 

small  quantities.  8  Mi'  ser,  one  who  loves  money 

4  Char'  i  ty,  love ;  kindness ;  what-  too  well ;  one  who  in  wealth  suffers 

ever  is  given  to  the  poor  for  their  from  the  fear  of  poverty, 

relief.        -  9  Bequeathed,    (be  kwemd),    to 

*  Jeers,  insulting  words  give  or  leave  by  will. 


THE    BEGGAR-MAN.  63 

to  John  Doane,  the  boy  who  had  once  been  kind  to  him,  a 
bag  of  gold,  all  that  he  possessed. 

8.  From  the  midst  of  the  heap  of  straw  which  had  served 
him  for  a  bed  those  many  years,  the  money  was  taken ;  the 
miser  had  directed  where  to  look  for  it ;  he  could  not  bear 
to  be  without  it  while  he  lived.  The  bag  was  found  to  con- 
tain two  hundred  thousand  pounds,  which  is  nearly  nine 
hundred  thousand  dollars. 

9.  All  this  large  sum  now  rightly  belonged  to  the  poor 
locksmith's  boy.  I  hope  John's  father  was  a  wise  and  pru- 
dent '  man,  who  helped  his  son  to  properly  take  care  of  so 
much  money,  and  showed  him  how  he  might  do  good  with  it. 

10.  You  ought  always  to  be  kind  to  the  aged  and  poor, 
and  do  all  that  you  can  for  their  comfort.  It  is  not  likely 
you  will  ever  be  paid  for  doing  such  a  thing  in  the  way  that 
John  Doane  was  ;  but  the  conscience 2  in  your  bosom  will 
tell  you  that  you  have  acted  right,  and  you  need  not  wish 
for  any  reward  besides.  Mrs.  Goodwin. 

n. 

16.     THE    BEGGAR-MAN. 

ABOUND  the  fire,  one  winter  night, 
The  farmer's  rosy  children  sat ; 
The  fagot 3  lent  its  blazing  light, 

And  jokes 4  went  round,  and  careless  chat.s 

2.   When,  hark  !  a  gentle  hand  they  hear 
Low  tapping  at  the  bolted  door ; 
And  thus  to  gain  their  willing  ear, 
A  feeble  voice  was  heard  t'  implore  :6 

1    x  Prudent,    (pr8'  dent),    careful;  '  Fag' ot,  a  bundle  of  sticks,  twigs, 

skillful  in  determining  every  line  of  or  small  branches  of  trees,  used  for 

conduct ;    frugal    or  saving ;    prac-  burning ;  a   single   stick  suited  for 

tically  wise.  burning. 

5  Conscience,     (k6n'  shens),    in-  *  Jokes,  funny  sayings, 

ward  knowledge  ;  knowledge  that  a  •  Chat,  free  and  lively  talk, 

person  has  with  regard  to  good  and  6  Im  plore',  to  ask  earnestly  j  to 

evil,  or  right  and  wrong.  entreat ;  to  beg. 


64  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  u  Cold  blows  the  blast l  across  the  moor : 2 

The  sleet3  drives  hissing  in  the  wind: 
Yon  toilsome  mountain  lies  before ; 
A  dreary,  treeless  waste  behind. 

4.  "  My  eyes  are  weak  and  dim  with  age ; 

No  road,  no  path,4  can  I  descry  ;5 
And  these  poor  rags  ill  stand  the  rage 
Of  such  a  keen,  inclement 6  sky. 

5    "So  faint  I  am,  these  tottering  feet 

No  more  my  feeble  frame  can  bear ; 
My  sinking  heart  forgets  to  beat, 
And  drifting  snows  my  tomb 7  prepare. 

6.  "  Open  your8  hospitable 9  door, 

And  shield  me  from  the  biting  blast ; 
Cold,  cold,  it  blows  across  the  moor, 
The  weary  moor  that  I  have  pass'd !" 

7.  With  hasty  step  the  farmer  ran, 

And  close  beside  the  fire  they  place 
The  poor  half-frozen  beggar-man, 
With  shaking  limbs  and  pallid 10  face. 

8.  The  little  children  flocking  came, 

And  warm'd  his  stiffening  hands  in  theirs  ; 
And  busily  the  kindly  dame  u 
A  comfortable  mess  prepares. 

9.  Their  kindness  cheer'd  his  drooping  soul 

And  slowly  down  his  wrinkled  cheek 

1  Blast,  (blast),  a  strong  wind.  dead  body  of  a  human  being  is  bur. 

2  Moor,    (m6r),   extensive   waste  ied ;  a  grave, 
land,  having  a  poor,  light  soil  6  Your,  (ySr). 

3  Sleet,  frozen  rain.  9  Hos'  pi  ta  ble,  kind  to  strangers 

4  Path,  (path).  or  guests. 

6  De  scry7,  discover  with  the  eye.         10  Pal'  lid,  pale ;  without  color. 
6  In  clem'  ent,  not  calm  ;  stormy.        "  Dame,  mother  ;  the  mistress  oi 
1  Tomb,  (torn),  a  pit  in  which  the    a  family,  or  of  a  school. 


THE  BEG  GAR- MAN. 


65 


The  big  round  tears  were  seen  to  roll, 
•And  told  the  thanks  he  could  not  speak. 

10.  The  children,  too,  began  to  sigh, 

And  all  their  merry  chat  was  o'er ; 
And  yet  they  felt,  they  knew  not  why, 
More  glad  than  they  had  done  before. 

Lucy  Aikin 


66  NATIONAL    THIRD    HEADER, 

HI. 
17.    THE    TRUE    SECRET    OF    HAPPINESS 

PAKT  FIKST. 

16  /~\H,  I  am  so  tired!  I  wish  I  had  something  to  do!* 
V_y   said  Jane  Thompson  to  her  mother,  one  day.    "  Then 
why  don't  you  read?"   asked  her  mother.     "You  have 
books." 

2.  "  I'm  tired  of  reading,  and  I'm  tired  of  every  thing." 
"  You  are  a  very  unhappy  girl,  Jane,"  said  her  mother. 

3.  "  If  I  am,  I  can't '  help  it,"  replied  Jane.  "  But  I  am 
sure 2  you  could  help  it,  if  you  would  try,  my  daughter." 

4.  "  How  can  I  help  it,  mother  ?  I  am  sure  I  should  like 
very  much  to  know."  "  By  trying  to  be  useful  to  others, 
my  daughter." 

5.  "  So  you  have  said  before.  But  I  can't  see  any  thing 
so  very  pleasant  in  working  for  others.  Nobody  thinks  of 
being  useful  to  me." 

6.  "  That  is  a  very  selfish  thought,  Jane,"  her  mother 
replied  in  a  serious  tone,  "  and  the  feeling  that  prompted3 
that  thought  is  the  cause  of  all  your  unhappiness.  You 
must  cease  to  think  only  of  yourself,  and  have  some  kind 
of  regard  for  others,  or  you  will  never  be  happy." 

7.  Jane  did  not  understand  her  mother,  and  therefore4 
could  see  no  force  in  what  she  said.  And  her  mother  per- 
ceived this,  and  so  said  no  more  then  upon  the  subject. 
About  an  hour  afterward  she  came  into  the  room,  where 
Jane  sat  idle  and  nidping,5  and  said :  "  Come,  Jane,  I  want 
you  to  walk  out  with  me." 

8.  "  I  don't  care  much  about  going,  mother,"  Jane  re- 
plied; "and,  if  you  are  willing,  I  would  rather  stay  at 
home."  "  But  I  wish  you  to  go  with  me,  Jane ;  so  come, 
dress  yourself  as  quickly  as  you  can,  for  you  know  it  never 
takes  me  long  to  get  ready." 

1  Can't,  (kant),  can  not.  4  Therefore,   (theY  f6r),  for  that 

s  Sure,  shor),  certain.  or  this  reason. 

3  Prompted,  (pr&mf  ed)  suggest-        6  Moping,    (mop'  ing),  in  a  half 

ed  or  caused.  sleepy  state. 


THE    TRUE    SECRET    OF    HAPPINESS.  67 

9.  Jane  reluctantly l  obeyed,  and,  when  dressed,  went  out 
wifti  her  mother.  She  felt  listless 2  and  unhappy,  for  her 
mind  was  not  employed  upon  any  subject  of  interest.  After 
walking  for  some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  her  mother  stopped 
at  a  low  frame  building,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

10.  •'  What  are  you  going  in  there  for  ?"  Jane  asked  in 
surprise.  "  I  want  to  see  a  poor,  sick  woman,  who  lives 
here,"  said  hei  mother,  in  a  quiet  tone. 

11.  c'  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  stayed  at  home !"  But  before 
Jane  could  say  any  more,  the  knock  was  answered  by  a 
little  girl  about  ten  years  old,  whose  uncombed  head,  soiled 
clofties  and  skin,  showed  that  she  needed  the  care  of  a 
mother's  willing  heart  and  ready  hand. 

IV. 

18.    THE    TRUE    SECRET    OF    HAPPINESS. 

PART  SECOND. 

THE  little  girl  conducted  them  into  a  back  room,  in 
which  were  a  few  scanty  pieces  of  furniture,  and  a 
bed,  upon  which  was  propped  up  with  pillows  a  sick  woman, 
engaged  in  sewing.3  Her  face  was  pale  and  thin,  and  her 
eyes,  bright  and  glistening,  were  sunk  far  into  her  head. 
The  work  dropped  from  her  hand  as  her  unexpected  visit- 
ors entered,  and  then  she  looked  up  earnestly  into  the  face 
of  the  elder  of  the  two. 

2.  "  You  do  not  seem  able  to  work,  ma'am,"  said  Jane's 
mother,  advancing4  to  the  bedside,  and  taking  the  small, 
thin  hand  that  was  offered  her.  "I  am  not  very  able, 
ma'am,"  she  replied  in  a  feeble  tone.  "  But  I  have  to  do 
something." 

3.  "  Is  there  no  one  to  provide  any  thing  for  you  in  your 
feeble  state  ?"  asked  her  visitor.  "  No  one,  ma'am,"  was 
the  simple,  and,  to  Jane's  mother,  affecting  response.5 

4.  "  And  how  many  hours  through  the  day  do  you  have 

i  Re  luct'  ant  ly,  unwillingly.  3  Sewing,  (s6'  ing). 

»  List'  less,  inattentive ;  not  in-        *  Ad  vane'  ing,  going  forward, 
tcrested.  •  Re  sponse',  answer. 


68  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

to  sit  up  in  bed  and  sew  ?"  "  All  day,  when  I  can,  ma'ain. 
And  sometimes  a  good  many  hours  at  night.  But  I  wouldn't 
care  so  much  for  that,  if  I  was  able  to  go  about  the  room 
a  little,  and  attend  more  to  my  child,  who  is,  indeed,  sadly 
neglected."  And  the  tears  came  into  the  mother's  eyes,  as 
she  cast  a  look  of  tenderness  upon  her  little  girl. 

5.  Jane  saw  that  look,  and  noted  the  sad  expression  of 
the  poor  woman's  voice,  and  both  touched  her  heart.  "  Can 
not  we  do  something  for  them?"  she  whispered.  "We 
must  try,"  was  the  low  response. 

6.  "I  heard  of  your  being  ill  this  morning,"  Jane's 
mother  said,  "  and  have  come  over  to  see  if  I  can  do  any 
thing  for  you.  You  must  be  relieved  from  your  constant 
labor,  for  it  is  too  much  for  your  feeble  frame.  As  soon  as 
I  return  home,  I  will  send  you  over  as  much  food  as  you 
and  your  little  girl  will  require  for  several  days,  and  my 
daughter  here  will  be  willing,  I  think,  to  come  in  to  see 
you  now  and  then,  and  give  you  such  little  assistance  as 
you  may  require.     Will  you  not,  Jane  ?" 

7.  "  Oh  yes,  mother.  I  will  come  most  cheerfully."  And 
the  tone  of  her  voice  and  the  expression  of  her  face  showed 
that  she  was  in  earnest.  The  poor  woman  could  not  find 
words  to  speak  out  her  true  feelings,  but  she  looked  her 
gratitude. 

8.  After  Jane  and  her  mother  had  left  this  miserable 
tenement,1  the  former  said :  "  O  mother,  it  makes  my  heart 
ache  to  think  of  that  poor  woman  and  her  child !  How 
can  she  possibly  get  bread  to  eat,  by  the  work  of  her  own 
hands,  and  she  almost  dying  ?" 

9.  The  sympathy2  thus  expressed  pleased  her  mother 
very  much,  and  she  encouraged  the  good  impression.  After 
she  had  returned  home,  she  prepared  a  number  of  articles 
of  food,  such  as  she  thought  were  required,  and  also  a  few 
delicacies3  that  she  knew  would  be  grateful  to  the  sick 
woman.     These  she  dispatched4  by  a  servant. 

'  Ten'  e  ment,  house  to  live  in.  3  Del'  i  ca  cies,  things  which  de- 

3  Sym'  pa  thy,    partaking    the      light  the  taste, 
feelings  of  another.  4  Dis  patched',  sent. 


TRUE    SECRET    OF    HAPPINESS.  69 

10.  About  half  an  hour  after,  Jane,  with  a  small  bundle 
in  her  hand,  went  out  alone,  and  turned  her  steps  toward 
the  cheerless  hovel1  she  had  but  a  short  time  before  visited. 
In  this  bundle  was  a  change  of  clothing  for  the  invalid,2 
which  Jane  assisted  her  to  put  on.  And  then  she  made  up 
her  bed  for  her,  and  beat  up  the  pillows,  and  fixed  her  as 
comfortably  as  possible. 

11.  Then  she  took  the  little  girl,  and  washed3  her,  and 
combed  her  hair,  and  put  on  a  clean  frock  that  her  mother 
told  her  she  would  find  in  the  closet.  After  this  she  ar- 
ranged every  thing  in  the  room  in  order,  and  swept  up  the 
floor.  And  still  further,  went  to  work  and  got  a  nice  cup 
of  tea  for  the  sick  woman. 

12.  It  would  have  done  the  heart  of  any  one  good  to 
have  seen  how  full  of  delight  and  gratitude  was  the  counte- 
nance of  the  sick  woman.  Jane  had  never  felt  so  happy  in 
her  life.  When  she  came  home  her  mother  remarked  her 
light  step  and  cheerful  air. 

13.  "  You  have  at  last  learned  how  to  be  happy,  Jane," 
said  she.  "  The  secret  lies  in  our  endeavoring 4  to  be  use- 
ful to  others.  All  our  unhappiness  springs  from  some 
indulgence  of  selfishness,  and  all  our  true  feelings  of  hap- 
piness from  that  benevolence  which  prompts  us  to  regard 
others." 

14.  Jane  saw  and  felt  the  force  of  her  mother's  remark, 
and  never  forgot  it.  The  sick  woman,  in  whom  she  had 
become  interested,  afforded  ample  scope  5r  for  the  exercise 
of  her  newly  awakened  feelings  of  benevolence,  and  thus 
they  gained  strength  and  grew  into  principles  of  action. 
May  every  one  who  reads  this  little  story  find  the  true 
secret  of  happiness  i  T.  S.  Arthur. 

1  Hov'el,  a  poor  or  mean  dwelling.        3  "Washed,  (w&sht). 
3  Invalid,  (fn'va  Hd),  a  person  who        4  En  deav'  or  ing,  trying. 
is  weak  or  sickly.  6  Scope,  space,  or  opportunity. 


70  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

V. 

19.     THE   COMPLAINTS   OF   THE  POOR. 

"   A   ND  wherefore !  do  tlie  poor  complain  f? 
J_jL  The  rich  man  asked  of  me  : 
"  Come,  walk  abroad  with  me,"  I  said, 
"  And  I  will  answer  thee." 

2.  'Twas  evening,  and  the  frozen  streets 

Were  cheerless 2  to  behold ; 
And  we  were  wrapped  and  coated  well 
And  yet  we  were  a-cold. 

3.  We  met  an  old,  bareheaded  man, 

His  locks  were  thin  and  white ; 
I  asked  him  what  he  did  abroad 
In  that  cold  winter's  night. 

4.  The  cold  was  keen,  indeed,  he  said — 

But  at  home  no  fire  had  he ; 
And  therefore  he  had  come  abroad   < 
To  ask  for  charity/ 

5.  We  met  a  young  barefooted  child, 

And  she  begged  loud  and  bold ; 
I  asked  her  what  she  did  abroad 
When  the  wind  it  blew  so  cold. 

6.  She  said  her  father  was  at  home, 

And  he  lay  sick  abed ; 
And  therefore  was  it  she  was  sent 
Abroad  to  beg  for  bread. 

7.  We  saw  a  woman  sitting  down 

Upon  a  stone  to  rest ; 
She  had  a  baby  at  her  back, 
And  another  at  her  breast. 


« "Wherefore,  (whar'for),  for  what        *  Cheerless,  (cher'  l&s),   without 
or  which  reason.  joy,  gladness,  or  comfort ;  gloomy. 


THE  PILGRIM   AND  THE  RICH  KNIGHT.  7J 

8.  I  asked  her  why  she  loitered !  there, 

When  the  night- wind  was  so  chill ; 
She  turned  her  head,  and  bade  the  child 
That  screamed  behind,  be  still — ■ 

9.  Then  told  us  that  her  husband  served, 

A  soldier,  far  away ; 
And  therefore  to  her  parish 2  she 
Was  begging  back  her  way. 

10.   I  turned  me  to  the  rich  man  then, 
For  silently  stood  he ; 
"  You  ask  me  why  the  poor  complain ; 
And  these  have  answered  thee  I" 

Southed. 

VI. 

20.     THE  PILGRIM  AND   THE  RICH  KNIGHT. 

IN  a  noble  castle 3  there  once  dwelt  a  very  rich  knight.4 
He  expended  much  money  in  adorning  and  beautifying 
his  dwelling ;  but  he  gave  little  to  the  poor. 

2.  A  weary  pilgrim5  came  to  the  castle,  and  asked  for  a 
night's  lodging.  The  knight  haughtily6  refused  him,  and 
said :  "  This  castle  is  not  an  w." 

3.  The  pilgrim  replied :  "  Permit  me  only  to  ask  you 
three  questions,  and  I  will  depart."  "  Upon  this  condition, 
speak,"  said  the  knight.     "  I  will  readily  answer  you." 

4  The  pilgrim  then  said  to  him :  "  Who  dwelt  in  this 
castle  before  you  ?"     "  My  father,"  replied  the  knight. 

1  Loitered,  lingered  or  stopped  the  king  or  queen  has  bestowed  the 

ill/  for  no  particular  purpose.  honor  of  being  addressed  by  the 

*  Parish,  (par'  ish),  a  portion  of  style  of  Sir  before  his  Christian 
country,  in  England,  the  people  of  name. 

which  belong  to  the  same  church.  B  Pil'  grim,  one  who  slowly  and 

*  Castle,  (kas'  si),  a  house  armed  heavily  treads  his  way  ;  a  traveler ; 
for  defense  ;  the  house  of  a  noble-  especially  one  who  travels  a  great 
man  or  knight.  distance  to  visit  a  holy  place. 

4  Knight,  (nit),  a  military  attend-  6  Haughtily,  (ha'  tl  11),  proudly ; 
ant ;  in  England,  a  man  on  whom    with  contempt. 


72  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

5.  The  pilgrim  asked  again :  "  Who  dwelt  here  before 
jour  father  ?"     "  My  grandfather,"  answered  the  knight. 

6.  "And  who  will  dwell  here  after  you?"  still  asked  the 
pilgrim.     The  knight  said :  "  With  God's  will,  my  son." 

7.  "  Well,"  said  the  pilgrim,  "  if  each  dwells  but  his  time 
in  the  castle,  and  in  turn  must  depart  and  make  way  for 
anoth'er,  what  are  you  otherwise  here  than  guests  ? 

8.  "  This  castle,  then,  is  truly  an  inn.  Why,  therefore, 
expend  so  much  money  in  adorning *  a  dwelling  which  you 
will  occupy  but  for  a  short  season  ?  Do  good ;  be  charita- 
ble ;  for  '  he  that  hath  pity  upon  the  poor,  lendeth  unto  the 
Lord;  and  that  which  he  hath  given,  will  he  pay  him 
again.'  " 

9.  The  knight  took  these  words  to  heart ;  he  gave  the 
pilgrim  shelter  for  the  night,  and  was  henceforth  more 
charitable  toward2  the  poor.  Mr&  St.  Simon. 


SECTION  V. 
i. 

21.    THE    CHILD'S    WISH    IN    JUNE. 

MOTHEE,  mother,  the  winds  are  at  pla^? 
Prithee3  let  me  be  idle  to-day : 
Look,  dear  mother,  the  flowers  all  he 
Languidly4  under  the  bright  blue  sky. 

2.   See,  how  slowly  the  streamlet  glides ; 
Look,  how  the  violet  roguishly  hides ; 
Even  the  butterfly  rests  on  the  rose, 
And  scarcely  spies5  the  sweets  as  he  goes. 

1  Adorning,    (a  darn'  ing),   dress-        8  Prithee,  (prim'  e),  I  pray  thee, 
ing  with  ornaments ;  making  beau-        4  Languidly,  (l&n'  gw*d  M)»  wea^- 

tiful,  or  pleasing.  ly  ;  droopingly  ;  without  strength, 

8  Toward,  (to'  ard),  in   t.he  direc-        6  Spie$,  gains  sight  of ;  sees  at  a 

tion  of ;  with  respect  to  distance. 


THE    SUMMER-TIME  73 

3.   Poor  Tray  is  asleep  in  the  noon-day  sun, 
And  the  flies  go  about  him  one  by  one ; 
And  pussy  sits  near  with  a  sleepy  grace, 
"Without  ever  thinking  of  washing  her  face. 

■L   There  flies  a  bird  to  a  neighboring  tree, 
But  very  lazily  flieth  he  ; 
And  he  sits  and  twitters 1  a  gentle  note, 
That  scarcely2  ruffles3  his  little  throat. 

o.   You  bid  me  be  busy ;  but,  mother,  hear 

How  the  hum-drum  grasshopper  soundeth  near 
And  the  soft  west  wind  is  so  light  in  its  play, 
It  scarcely  moves  a  leaf  on  the  spray.4 

G.   I  wish,  oh,  I  wish  I  was  yonder  cloud, 
That  sails  about  with  its  misty  shroud ! 
Books  and  work  I  no  more  should  see, 
And  I'd  come  and  float,  dear  mother,  o'er  thee. 

Mas.  Oilman. 


n. 

22.    THE    SUMMER-TIME. 

WHAT  child  does  not  like  the  spring,  the  bright  young 
spring,  with  its  soft  air,  its  tender  grass,  its  tiny 
flowers,  and  its  singing  birds?  Yet  still  more  may  the 
child  love  the  pleasant  summer-time,  when  the  dark  clouds 
and  the  cold  rains  and  winds  are  all  gone. 

2.  June  comes.  What  a  time  it  is !  The  happy  children 
dance  and  sing  for  joy,  on  their  way  to  school.  The  insects 
shirp  in  the  grass.     The  birds  sing.     The  trees  are  heavy 

1  Twitters,  (twit'  tgrz),  sings  in-  8  Ruffles,  (ruf  flz),  disturbs ;  makes 
Serruptedly,  or  without  a  connected    uneven. 

pong-  *  Spray,  a  small  shoot  or  branch 

2  Scarcely,  (skars  H),  with  diffi-  of  a  tree ;  a  number  of  smaU 
cutty    hardly  :  barely.  branches 


74  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

with  leaves,  and  the  low  sound  of  the  wind  is  heard  in  their 
branches.  White  clouds  sail  along  the  sky,  and  streaks  of 
sunshine  break  through. 

3.  The  gardens  are  full  of  blossoms,  red  and  white. 
Yellow  butter-cups  shine  in  the  green  meadow,  like  buttons 
of  gold.  The  sweet  clover  seems  to  blush  wifli  its  red  blos- 
soms. The  water  in  the  brook  loiters  like  an  idle  boy,  just 
moving  as  though  it  were  in  no  haste  to  leave  the  sweet 
meadow. 

4.  Soon  the  days  become  longer,  and  the  sun  grows  hot. 
It  shines  upon  the  houses  and  the  paved  streets.  The  hard 
walks  burn  your  feet.  The  wind  does  not  seem  to  blow. 
The  schools  in  the  city  are  closed.  People  drive  out  from 
town,  with  their  children,  to  breathe  the  fresh  country  air, 
and  be  happy. 

5.  They  stop  at  a  farm-house  to  quench  their  thirst.  The 
kind  woman  brings  a  pailful  of  clear,  cold  water,  and  gives 
them  a  tin  cup  to  drink  from.  She  gets  some  nice  sweet 
milk  for  the  children,  and  they  are  so  happy  that  they  for- 
get to  thank  her. 

6.  Men  are  at  work  in  the  meadow.  Some  are  cutting 
down  the  grass  and  spreading  it,  and  others,  in  another 
part  of  the  field  where  it  is  dry,  are  raking  it  up  into  large 
rows.  The  gentle  wind  blows  over  the  meadow,  and  brings 
the  sweet  odor  of  new  hay. 

7.  The  wheat  is  not  yet  ripe.  Its  long  bearded  heads 
are  now  nearly  white,  but  they  will  soon  be  yellow  like 
gold.  Then  the  men  will  cut  it  down  and  gather  it  into 
the  barn.  A" 

8.  The  sun  has  now  set.  It  is  no  longer  day.  You  may 
aft  at  the  open  window.  The  red  moon  rises  through  the 
trees,  and  you  can  scarcely  see  the  stars.  The  air  is  now 
cool,  and  the  dews  are  falling. 

9.  You  can  not  see  the  red  and  blue  flowers  in  the  gar* 
den,  but  you  know  they  are  there.  All  is  still  but  the  voice 
of  the  summer  wind,  which  you  may  hear  in  the  trees  and 
the  tall  grass.  The  clock  strikes  nine,  and  your  mother 
calls,  i%To  bed,  my  child" 


THE    WHEAT  FIELD.  75 

m. 

23.    THE    WHEAT-FIELD. 

FIELD  of  wheat,  so  full  and  fair, 
Shining  with  thy  sunny  hair, 
Lightly  waving  either  way, 
Graceful  as  the  breezes  play — 
Looking  like  a  summer  sea — 
How  I  love  to  gaze  at  thee ! 
Pleasant  art  thou  to  the  sight ; 
And  to  thought,  a  rich  delight. 
Then,  thy  voice  is  music  sweet, 
Softly-sighing  Field  of  Wheat. 

2.  Pointing  to  the  genial l  sky, 
Rising  straight,  and  aiming  high. 
Every  stalk  is  seen  to  shoot 

As  an  arrow  from  the  root. 
Like  a  well-trained  company, 
All,  in  uniform,  agree, 
Prom  the  footing  to  the  ear ; 
All  in  order  strict  appear. 

3.  Marshaled 2  by  a  skillful  hand, 
All  together  bow,  or  stand — 
Still,  within  the  proper  bound ; 
None 3  6'ersteps  the  given  ground — 
With  its  tribute 4  held  to  play 

At  His  nod  whom  they  obey. 
Each  the  gems  that  stud  its  crown 
Will  ere  long  for  man  lay  down : 
Thou  wifti  promise  art  replete 5 
Of  the  precious  sheaves  of  wheat. 

Genial,    ge'  nf  al),    causing    to  3  None,  (nun),  not  one. 

produce  ;  making  cheerful.  *  Trib'  ute,   something  given  or 

3  Mar'  shaled,  arranged,  or  put  paid. 

Into  order.  6  Re  plete',  full ;  completely  filled 


70  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

4.  How  thy  strength  in  weakness  lies ! 
Not  a  robber-bird  that  flies 
Finds  support  whereby  to  put 

On  a  stalk  her  lawless  foot ; 

Not  a  predatory x  beak 

Plunges  down,  thy  stores  to  seek, 

"Where  the  guard  of  silver  spears 

Keeps  the  fruit,  and  decks  the  ears. 

No  vain  insect,  that  could  do 

Harm  to  thee,  dares  venture  through 

Such  an  armory,2  or  eat 

Off  the  sheath,  to  take  the  wheat. 

5.  What  a  study  do  we  find 
Opened  here  for  eye  and  mind ! 
In  it,  who  can  offer  less 

Than  to  wonder,  and  confess, 

That  on  this  high-favored  ground, 

Faith  is  blest,  and  Hope  is  crowned  ? 

Charity  her  arms  may  spread 

Wide  from  it,  with  gifts  of  bread. 

Wisdom,  Power,  and  Goodness  meet 

In  the  bounteous 3  Field  of  Wheat. 

H.  F.  Gould. 


IV. 
24.     SUMMER    WOODS. 

1. 

("*i  OME  ye  into  the  summer  woods ;  there  entereth  no  annoy ;' 
J   All  greenly  wave  the  chestnut-leaves,  and  the  earth  is  full 
of  joy. 
I  can  not  tell  you  half  the  sights  of  beauty  you  may  see, 
The  bursts  of  golden  sunshine,  and  many  a  shady  tree. 

1  PrecV  a  to  ry,  hungry  •  given  to  3  Benin'  te  cms,  generous  ;  plenti- 

plunder.  ftj. 

3  Arm'  o  ry,  means  of   defense  ;  *  An  noy',  injury  or  trouble  from 

arms  ;  weapons  of  all  kinds.  frequent  causes. 


SUMMER    WOODS. 


77 


2. 

There,  lightly  swung,  in  bowery  glades,1  the  honey-suckles  twine  5 
There  blooms  the  pink  sabbatia,  and  the  scarlet  columbine  ; 
There  grows  the  purple  violet  in  some  dusk  woodland  spot ; 
There  grows  the  little  Mayflower,  and  the  wood  forget-me-not 

3. 

^nd  many  a  merry  bird  is  there,  unscared  by  lawless  men  ; 
The  blue-winged  jay,  the  woodpecker,  and  golden-crested  wren 
Come  down,  and  ye  shall  see  them  all,  the  timid  and  the  bold 
For  their  sweet  life  of  pleasantness,  it  is  not  to  be  told. 


4. 
J've  seen  the  freakish  *  squirrels s  drop  down  from  their  leafy  tret. 
The  little  squirrels  with  the  old, — great  joy  it  was  to  me  ! 
And  far  within  that  summer  wood,  among  the  leaves  so  green, 
There  flows  a  little  gurgling4  brook,  the  brightest  e'er  was  seen. 


1  Glades,  open  or  cleared  places 
in  a  forest  or  wood. 

9  Freak7  ish,  playful ;  changing 
their  pla}'  often. 


3  Squirrel,  (skwur'rel),  sometimes 
pronounced  (skwir'  rel). 

4  Gurgling,   (geV  gling),   running 
with  a  purling  or  murmuring  noise. 


78  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

5. 
There  come  the  little  gentle  birds,  without  a  fear  of  ill, 
Down  to  the  murmuring  water's  edge,  and  freely  drink  their  fill, 
And  dash  about,  and  splash  about, — the  mercy  little  things, — 
And  look  askance x  with  bright  black  eyes,  and  flirt  their  drip 
ping  wings. 

6. 

The  nodding  plants,  they  bowed  their  heads,  as  if,  in  heartson.e 

cheer, 
They  spake  unto  those  little  things,  "  'Tis  merry  living  hero !" 
Oh,  how  my  heart  ran  5'er  with  joy!    I  saw  that  all  was  good, 
And  how  we  might  glean  up  delight  all  round  us,  if  we  would  I 

Maky  Howitt. 


SECTION   VI. 
i. 

25.    THE   TWIN"   SISTERS 

A  PAIR  of  twin  sisters  were  so  much  alike,  that  it  was 
difficult  to  distinguish2  them.  Their  little  hearts 
were  also  blended3  in  the  sweetest  love.  Dressed  always 
alike,  they  might  usually  be  seen,  hand  in  hand;  and 
wherever  one  was,  you  might  be  sure  that  the  other  could 
not  be  far  away. 

2.  When  old  enough  to  attend  school,  they  sat  side  by 
side,  studied  from  the  same  book,  wrote  the  same  copy, 
shaded  with  their  pencils  the  same  flower,  warbled4  the 
same  song,  in  the  same  key.  They  enjoyed  the  instructions 
of  a  very  faithful  teacher,  who  sometimes,  to  test  the 
thorough  preparation  of  her  pupils,  called  them  to  recite 
separately. 

i  Askance,  (a  skins'),  aside;  side-  3  Blend'  ed,  joined  together ;  uni 

ways.  ted. 

1  Distinguish,  (dis  ting'  gwish),  to  4  Warbled,  (war'  bid),  sung  in  a 

recognize   or  know   by    differences  quavering  or  trilling  manner,  with 

that  can  l>e  noticed  or  seen.  many  turns  or  variations. 


THE    TWIN    SISTERS.  79 

3.  On  such  an  occasion,  one  of  the  twins  having  neg- 
lected her  lesson,  mistook,  and  faltered.1  Tears  started  to 
her  eyes,  and  the  embarrassment 2  of  betraying  ignorance 
convulsed3  her  wifi  shame.  Just  at  that  crisis4  the  teacher 
was  called  out. 

4.  The  other  sister,  seated  upon  her  bench,  well  pre- 
pared with  her  lesson,  sympathized5  in  all  the  suffering  of 
her  second  self.  Her  breast  heaved,  and  her  cheek  was 
suffused6  with  crimson.  Springing  to  the  side  of  the  tried 
one,  she  forced  her  backward  into  her  seat,  wifli  a  rapidity 
that  overcame  resistance,  and  stood  up  in  her  place. 

5.  The  teacher  returned,  resumed7  her  examination,  and 
found  every  question  answered  promptly,  and  with  perfect 
correctness.  At  first  she  was  surprised,  yet  supposed  a 
little  interval8  had  enabled  the  pupil,  by  reflection,  to  col- 
lect her  thoughts,  or  possibly  to  review  those  points  of  the 
lesson  in  which  she  was  most  deficient.9 

6.  But  the  expression  of  an  approbation 10  which  was  not 
fairly  earned,  rankled "  in  the  consciences  of  these  pure- 
minded  sisters.  They  could  not  be  happy,  thus  to  deceive 
their  teacher. 

7.  Requesting  to  be  permitted  to  stay  after  school,  they 
approached  her  with  tears,  and  confessed  what  they  had 
done. 

8.  "  I  could  not  bear  to  see  my  poor  sister  in  such  pain," 
said  the  sweet  one  who  rescued  her.  "  Forgive  us,  we  are 
but  one"  said  their  little  voices  in  unison.13  "  God  bless 
you"  said  their  kind  preceptress,13  "may  you  be  one  fa 
Heaven/"  Mks.  Sigottrney. 

1  Fal'  tered,  hesitated  ;  was  una-  e  Suf  fused',     covered  ;    having 

ble  to  go  on.  something  poured  over. 

3  Em  bar'  rass  merit,    difficulty ;  T  Re  sumed',  taken  up  again, 
confusion.  8  In'  ter  val,  a  space  of  time  be- 

8  Con  vulsed',  shook  ;  agitated.  tween  two  other  points. 

4  Cri'  sis,  moment ;    a    point    of         9  De  fi'  cient,  wanting ;  faulty, 
time  when  something  important  is         10  Ap  pro  ba'  tion,  approval 
expected.  J1  Rankled,  (rank'  Id),  caused  in 

6  Sym'  pa  thized,  had  a  common    flammation,  or  pain, 
feeling  ;    was  affected  by    feelings        l3  U'  ni  son,  together ;  as  one. 
similar  to  those  of  others.  "  Pre  cep'  tres3   female  teacher 


80  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

n. 

26.    EMULATION1  WITHOUT  ENVY. 

F  BANK'S  father  was  speaking  to  a  friend,  one  day,  on 
the  subject  of  competitions2  at  school.  He  said  "  that 
he  could  answer  for  it,  that  envy3  is 'not  the  necessary  con- 
sequence of  school  competitions :  he  had  been  excelled  by 
many,  but  he  never  recollected  having  felt  envious  of  his 
successful  rivals  ;4  nor,"  added  he,  "  did  my  winning  many 
a  prize  from  my  friend  Birch  ever  diminish  his  friendship 
for  me." 

2.  In  support  of  the  truth  of  what  Frank's  father  had 
asserted,5  the  friend  who  was  present  related  an  anecdote, 
which  had  fallen  under  his  own  observation,6  in  a  school  in 
his  neighborhood.  At  this  school,  the  sons  of  several 
wealthy  farmers,  and  others  who  were  poorer,  received  in- 
struction together.  Frank  listened  with  great  attention 
while  the  gentleman  gave  the  following  account  of  the  two 
rivals. 

3.  "It  happened  that  the  son  of  a  rich  farmer  and  of  a 
poor  widow  came  in  competition  for  the  monitorship7  of 
their  class;  they  were  so  nearly  equal,  that  the  master 
could  scarcely  decide  between  them ;  some  days  one,  and 
some  days  the  other,  gained  the  head  of  the  class.  It  was 
determined,  by  seeing  who  should  be  at  the  head  of  the 
class  for  the  greater  number  of  days  in  the  week. 

4.  "  The  widow's  son,  by  the  last  day's  answer,  gained 
the  victory,  and  maintained  his  place  the  ensuing  week,  till 
the  school  was  dismissed  for  the  vacation  or  holidays. 

5.  "When  they  met  again,  he  did  not  appear,  and  the 
farmer's  son  being  next  in  excellence,8  might  now  have 

1  Em  u  la'  tion,  a  warm  desire  of  6  As  sert'ed,  said  with  confidence 
excelling,  or  becoming  superior.  6  Ob  ser  va'  tion,  the  act  of  see 

7  Competition,  (kom  pe  tfsh'  nn),    ing  or  taking  notice. 

seeking  with  others  to  gain  a  prize.         7  Mon'i  tor  ship,  the  office  of  one 

8  En'  vy,  unhappiness  caused  by  who  is  set  over  others  to  observe 
the  prosperity  of  another  person.         what  is  done  amiss. 

4  Rivals,  (rl'  valz),  persons  desir-  8  Excellence,  (5ks'sel  lens),  great 
ing  to  do  or  to  obtain  the  same  thing,    merit :  worth. 


HOW   TO   BE  HAPPY.  81 

been  at  the  head  of  his  class ;  but  instead  of  seizing  that 
vacant1  place,  which  had  devolved2  to  him  by  the  non- 
appearance of  his  rival,  he  went  to  the  widow's  house  to 
inquire  what  could  be  the  cause  of  her  son's  absence. 

6.  "  Poverty  was  the  cause  :  she  found  that  she  was  not 
able,  with  her  utmost  endeavors,  to  continue  to  pay  for  his 
schooling,  and  for  the  necessary  books,  and  the  poor  boy 
had  returned  to  day-labor,  as  it  was  his  duty,  for  her  support. 

7.  "  The  farmer's  son,  out  of  the  allowance  of  pocket* 
money  which  his  father  gave  him,  and  without  letting  any- 
body but  the  widow  and  her  son  know  what  he  did,  bought 
all  the  necessary  books,  and  paid  for  the  schooling  of  his 
rival,  and  brought  him  back  again  to  the  head  of  his  class, 
where  he  continued  to  be  monitor,  for  a  considerable  time, 
at  the  expense  of  his  generous  rival." 

8.  Frank  clapped  his  hands  at  hearing  this  story.  Mary 
came  up  to  ask  what  pleased  him  so  much,  and  he  repeated 
it  to  her  with  delight.  "That  farmer's  boy,"  added  he, 
"  must  have  had  a  strong  mind,  for  my  father's  friend,  who 
told  the  anecdote,  said  that  people  of  strong  minds  are 
never  envious :  that  weak  minds  only  are  subject  to  that 
unhappy  infirmity."3  Miss  Edgeworth. 

m. 

27.     HOW    TO    BE    HAPPY. 
PART  FIRST. 

EYEEY  child  must  have  observed  how  much  happier 
and  more  beloved  some  children  are  than  others. 
There  are  some  children  whom  you  always  love  to  be  with. 
They  are  happy  themselves,  and  they  make  you  happy. 

2.  There  are  others,  whose  society  you  always  avoid.4 
The  very  expression  of  their  countenances  produces  un- 
pleasant feelings.     They  seem  to  have  no  friends. 

1  Va'  cant,  not  occupied  or  filled.         3  In  firm'  i  ty,  weakness  ;  defect ; 

2  De  volved',   rolled  onward  or    failing. 

downward;  passed  from  one  person  *  A  void',  to  shun  ;  to  keep  at  a 
to  another  ;  Landed  down.  distance  from  or  away  from. 


82  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

3.  No  person  can  be  nappy  without  friends.  The  heart 
is  formed  for  love,  and  can  not  be  happy  without  the  oppor- 
tunity *  of  giving  and  receiving  affection.2 

4.  But  you  can  not  receive  affection,  unless  you  will  also 
give  it.  You  can  not  find  others  to  love  you,  unless  you 
wiQ  also  love  them.  Love  is  only  to  be  obtained  by  giving 
Love  in  return.  Hence  the  importance  of  cultivating  a 
cheerful  and  obliging  disposition.  You  can  not  be  happy 
without  it. 

5.  I  have  sometimes  heard  a  girl  say,  "  I  know  that  I  am 
very  unpopular3  at  school."  Now,  this  is  a  plain  confession 
that  she  is  very  disobliging  and  unamiable  in  her  disposi- 
tion. 

6.  If  your  companions  do  not  love  you,  it  is  your  own 
fault.  They  can  not  help  loving  you,  if  you  will  be  kind 
and  friendly.  If  you  are  not  loved,  it  is  a  good  evidence A 
that  you  do  not  deserve  to  be  loved.  It  is  true,  that  a 
sense  of  duty  may,  at  times,  render  it  necessary  for  you  to 
do  that  which  will  be  displeasing  to  your  companions. 

7.  But,  if  it  is  seen  that  you  have  a  noble  spirit,  that  you 
are  above  selfishness,  that  you  are  willing  to  make  sacrifices 
of  your  own  personal  convenience  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  your  associates 5  you  will  never  be  in  want  of  friends. 

8.  You  must  not  regard  it  as  your  misfortune  that  others 
do  not  love  you,  but  your  fault.  It  is  not  beauty,  it  is  not 
wealth,  that  will  give  you  friends.  Your  heart  must  glow 
ttrith  kindness,  if  you  would  attract6  to  yourself  the  esteem 
and  affection  of  those  by  whom  you  are  surrounded. 

9.  You  are  little  aware  how  much  the  happiness  of  your 
whole  life  depends  upon  the  cultivation  of  an  affectionate 
and  obliging  disposition.  If  you  will  adopt  the  resolution 
that  you  will  confer  favors  whenever  you  have  an  opportu- 
nity, you  will  certainly  be  surrounded  by  ardent 7  friends. 

1  Op  por  tu'  ni  ty,     occasion  ;        4  Ev'  i  dence,  that  which  proves 

chance  ;  means.  the  truth :  witness. 

a  Af  fee'  tion,  warm  or  render  re-        6  Associates.,  (as  s6  shl  ats),  com 

gard  ;  a  settled  good- will    love.  panions. 

8  Un  pop'  u  lar,   not  naving  the        8  At  tract',  draw, 
'avor  of  others  :  disliked.  *  Ar'  dent,  warm;  loving. 


HOW   TO    BE    HAPPY.  83 

10.  Begin  upon  this  principle  in  childhood,  and  act  upon 
it  through  life,  and  you  will  make  yourself  happy,  and  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  all  within  your  influence. 

IV. 
28.     HOW  TO    BE    HAPPY. 

PAKT  SECOND. 

YOU  go  to  school  on  a  cold  winter  morning.  A  bright 
fire  is  blazing  upon  the  hearth,1  surrounded  with  boys 
struggling  to  get  near  it  to  warm  themselves.  After  you 
get  slightly  warmed,  another  school-mate  comes  in,  suffer- 
ing with  cold.  "  Here,  James,"  you  pleasantly  call  out  to 
him,  "  I  am  almost  warm  ;  you  may  have  my  place." 

2.  As  you  slip  aside  to  allow  him  to  take  your  place  at 
the  fire,  will  he  not  feel  that  you  are  kind  ?  The  worst- 
dispositioned  boy  in  the  world  can  not  help  admiring  such 
generosity. 2 

3.  And  even  though  he  be  so  ungrateful  as  to  be  unwil- 
ling to  return  the  favor,  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  he 
will  be  your  friend  as  far  as  he  is  capable 3  of  friendship. 
If  you  will  habitually4  act  upon  this  principle,5  you  will 
never  want  friends. 

4.  Suppose,  some  day,  you  were  out  with  your  compan- 
ions, playing  ball.  After  you  had  been  playing  for  some 
time,  another  boy  comes  along.  He  can  not  be  chosen  upon 
either  side,  for  there  is  no  one  to  match  him.  "  Henry,"  you 
say,  "  you  may  take  my  place  a  little  while,  and  I  will  rest." 

5.  You  throw  yourself  down  upon  the  grass,  while  Henry, 
fresh  and  vigorous,6  takes  your  bat  and  engages  in  the 
game.  He  knows  that  you  gave  up  to  accommodate  him  ; 
and  how  can  he  help  liking  you  for  it. 

1  Hearth,  (harth),  the  floor  of  brick  4  Ha  bit' u  al  ly,    by    habit;    al- 

or  stone  in  a  chimney,  on  which  fire  ways  doing  a  thing  at  certain  times, 

is  made.  or  in  a  certain  way. 

3  Generosity,  (jen^r  6s1  tl),  open-  B  Prin  ci  pie,  reason  for  doing,  of 

heartedness  ;   a  hearty  willingness  not  doing, 

to  give  or  aid.  6  Vig'  or  ons,  full  of  strength  or 


Ca'  pa  ble.  able  to  do  a  thing.        active  force 


84  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

6.  The  fact  is,  that  neither  man  nor  child  can  cultivate 
such  a  spirit  of  generosity  and  kindness,  without  attracting 
affection  and  esteem. 

7.  Look  and  see  which  of  your  companions  have  the 
most  friends,  and  you  will  find  that  they  are  those  who 
have  this  noble  spirit ;  who  are  willing  to  deny  themselves, 
that  they  may  make  their  associates  happy. 

8.  This  is  not  peculiar  to  childhood :  it  is  the  same  in  all 
periods  of  life.  There  is  but  one  way  to  make  friends; 
and  that  is,  by  being  friendly  to  others. 

9.  Perhaps  some  child  who  reads  this  feels  conscious l  of 
being  disliked,  and  yet  desires  to  have  the  affection  of  his 
companions.    You  ask  me  what  you  shall  do.    I  will  tell  you. 

10.  I  will  give  you  an  infallible 2  rule.  Do  all  in  your 
power  to  make  others  happy.  Be  willing  to  make  sacrifices 
of  your  own  convenience,  that  you  may  promote  the  hap- 
piness of  others. 

11.  This  is  the  way  to  make  friends,  and  the  only  way. 
When  you  are  playing  with  your  brothers  and  sisters  at 
home,  be  always  ready  to  give  them  more  than  their  share 
of  privileges. 

12.  Manifest  an  obliging  disposition,  and  they  can  not 
but  regard  you  wifli  affection.  In  all  your  intercourse  with 
others,  at  home  or  abroad,  let  these  feelings  influence  you, 
and  you  will  receive  a  rich  reward. 

V. 
29.     KNOCK    AGAIN. 

PART  FIRST. 

IKEMEMBER  having  been  sent,  when  I  was  a  little 
boy,  with  a  message  from  my  father  to  a  particular 
friend  of  his,  who  resided  in  the  suburbs3  of  the  town  in 
which  my  par'ents 4  then  lived. 

2.  This  gentleman  occupied  an  old-fashioned  house,  the 

1  Conscious,  (k5n  shus),    know-  3  Sub'  urbs,  places  near  to  a  city 

ing ;  having  an  inward  knowledge,  or  town. 

*  In  faT  li  ble,   certain  :  fcure  not  4  Parent,   (pir*  ent),    a   father  oi 

to  disappoint  ot  fail  mother. 


KNOCK    AGAIN 


85 


door  of  which  was  approached  by  a  broad  flight  of  stone 
steps  of  a  semicircular *  form.  The  brass  knocker  was  an 
object  of  much  interest  to  me  in  those  days ;  for  the  whim2 


of  the  maker  had  led  him  to  give  it  the  shape  of  an  ele- 
phant's head,  the  trunk  of  the  animal  being  the  movable 
portion. 

3.  Away,  then,  I  scampered  in  great  haste ;  and  havirg 
reached  the  house,  ran  up  the  stone  steps  as  usual,  ano\ 

1  Sem  i  cir7  cu  lar,    having    the        'Whim,  a  freak;  a   humor:    an 
form  of  lialf  of  8  circle  odd  fancy. 


86  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

seizing  the  elephant's  trunk,  made  the  house  re-echo  to  my 
knocking.     No  answer  was  returned. 

4.  At  this  my  astonishment1  was  considerable,  as  ser- 
vants, in  the  times  I  write  of,  were  more  alert2  and  atten- 
tive than  they  are  at  present.  However,  I  knocked  a  second 
time.     Still  no  one  came. 

5.  At  this  I  was  much  more  surprised.  I  looked  at  the 
house.  It  presented  no  appearance  of  a  desertion.3  Some 
of  the  windows  were  open  to  admit  the  fresh  air ;  for  it  was 
summer :  others  of  them  were  closed.  But  all  had  the 
aspect 4  of  an  inhabited  dwelling. 

6.  I  was  greatly  perplexed,  and  looked  around,  to  see  if 
any  one  was  near  who  could  advise  me  how  to  act.  Imme- 
diately a  venerable 5  old  gentleman,  whom  I  had  never  seen 
before,  came  across  the  way,  and,  looking  kindly  in  my 
face,  advised  me  to  knock  again. 

7.  I  did  so  without  a  moment's  hesitation,6  and  presently 
the  door  was  opened,  so  that  I  had  an  opportunity  of  deliv- 
ering my  message.  I  afterward  learned  that  the  servants 
had  been  engaged  in  removing  a  heavy  piece  of  furniture 7 
from  one  part  of  the  house  to  the  other;  an  operation 
which  required  their  united  strength,  and  prevented  their 
opening  the  door. 

VI. 
30.    KNOCK    AGAIN. 

PART  SECOND. 

AS  I  was  tripping  lightly  homeward,  I  passed  the  kind 
old  gentleman  about  half  way  down  the  street.  He 
took  me  gently  by  the  arm ;  and,  retaining  his  hold,  began 
to  address  me  thus,  as  we  walked  on  together : 

J  Asr  ton'  ish  ment,  confusion  of  6  Ven'  er  a  ble,  deserving  of  great 

mind  from  fear  or  surprise ;  wonder,  respect. 

»  Alert,  (a  lfirtf),  watchful ;  activ i  6  Hesitation,  (hez'  I  ta'  shun),  the 

3  Desertion,  (de  zeV  shun),  the  act  of  pausing ;  a  stopping  in  doubt, 
state  of  being  forsaken.  7  Furniture,    (feY  nl  tur),    what- 

4  As'  pect,  appearance  to  the  eye  ever  is  necessary  or  convenient  in  a 
or  mind  ;  look.  house  or  a  room  for  house- keeping. 


KNOCK   AGAIN  87 

2.  "  The  incident,1  my  little  friend,  which  has  just  occur- 
red,2 may  be  of  some  use  to  you  in  after  life,  if  it  be  suita- 
bly improved.  Young  people  are  usually  very  enthusiastic3 
in  all  their  undertakings,  and  in  the  same  proportion  are 
very  easily  discouraged. 

3.  "  Learn,  then,  from  what  has  taken  place  this  morn- 
ing, to  persevere4  in  the  business  which  you  have  com- 
menced, provided  it  be  laudable 5  in  itself,  and,  ten  to  one, 
you  will  succeed.  If  you  do  not  at  first  obtain  what  you 
aim  at,  knock  again.  A  door  may  be  opened  when  you  least 
expect  it. 

4.  "  In  entering  on  the  practice  of  a  profession,6  engaging 
in  trade,  or  what  is  usually  called  settling  in  the  world, 
young  people  often  meet  wifli  great  disappointments. 

5.  "Friends,  whom  they  naturally  expected  to  employ 
them,  not  unfrequently  prefer  others  in  the  same  line  ;  and 
even  some  professors  of  religion  do  not  seem  to  consider 
it  a  duty  to  promote  the  temporal7  interest  of  their  breth- 
ren in  the  Lord. 

5.  "  Nevertheless,  industry,8  sobriety,9  and  patience,  are 
usually  accompanied  by  the  Divine  blessing.  Should  you. 
therefore,  my  little  friend,  ever  experience  disappointments 
of  this  kind,  think  of  the  brass  knocker  :  knock  again :  be 
sober,  be  diligent,  and  your  labors  will  be  blessed. 

7.  "In  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  many  difficulties  are 
encountered.  These  the  student  must  expect  to  meet ;  but 
he  must  not  relinquish  the  investigation 10  of  truth  because 

1  In'ci  dent,  an  event ;  that  which  business  which  one  claims  to  under- 
happens  or  falls  out.  stand  and  follow  for  a  living, — es- 

2  Occurred,  (ok  ke'rd7),  appeared ;  pecially  the  business  of  the  clergy- 
happened,  man,  the  lawyer,  or  the  physician. 

*  Enthusiastic,  (en  tlnV  z!  ast'  ik),  7  Tem'  por  al,    relating    to    the 

highly  excited ;  hoping  and  expect-  present  life,  or  this  world, 

ing  too  much.  8  In'  dus  try,  steady  attention  to 

4  Perrse  vere',  to  go  on  in  any  business, 

course  or  business  in  spite  of  dis-  9  Sor  bri'  e  ty,  the  habit  of  sober- 

couragements  ;    not  to   abandon  or  ness  or  temperance,  as  to  the  use  of 

give  over  what  is  undertaken.  spirituous  liquors  ;  calmness. 

6  Laud'  a  ble,  deserving  praise.  10  In  vesr  ti  ga'  tion,  the  act  of  fol 

'  Profession,   (pro  fesh'  un).   the  lowing  up  or  searching  into  ;  study 


88  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

it  seems  to  elude 1  his  search.  He  may  knock  at  the  gate 
of  science,  and  apparently  without  being  heard;  but  let 
him  knock  again,  and  he  will  find  an  entrance." 

vn. 

31.     SIR    EDMUND    SAUNDERS. 

MANY  years  ago  there  was  a  little  boy  in  London,  who, 
from  his  earliest  infancy,  had  never  known  any  other 
condition  than  that  of  beggary.  His  rags  barely  sufficed2 
to  cover  him,  but  could  not  protect  him  from  the  bitter 
blast.  His  food  was  the  scraps  doled3  out  by  the  hand  of 
charity,  and  his  bed  was  some  wretched  hovel,4  or  often  the 
open  street. 

2.  Of  his  parents  he  knew  nothing;5  for  when  he  was 
but  six  years  old  his  wretched  mother,  either  by  accident 
or  design,6  had  separated  from  him  in  a  crowd,  and  he  had 
never  since  beheld  her. 

3.  By  some  providential7  circumstance,8  the  poor  boy 
found  his  way  to  a  cer'taln  part  of  the  city  which  was  then, 
as  it  is  now,  the  principal  resort  of  lawyers,  and  entirely 
occupied  by  their  offices. 

4  Here  his  agility9  and  obliging  temper  made  him  quite 
useful.  He  became  a  sort  of  errand-boy  among  the  clerks, 
and  was  rewarded  for  his  services  by  receiving  broken 
victuals,  and  occasionally  a  bed  of  straw  beneath  the  shel- 
ter of  a  roof. 

5.  His  extraordinary10  docility,11  his  extreme  diligence,1' 

1  E  hide',  to  evade  or  escape  from.        7  Prov  i  den'  tial,    ordered     by 

2  Sufficed,   (suf  fizd),    answered  ;    God  himself. 

were  sufficient.  8  Circumstance,  (sir7  kum  stans) 

8  Doled,  dealt  out  in  small  por-  one  of  the  things  surrounding  us  in 

tions  ;  given  with  a  sparing  hand.  our  path  of  life. 

4  Hov'  el,  an  open  shed  ;  a  small,  9  A  gil'  i  ty,  quickness  in  action, 

mean  house  at)  Extraordinary,  (eks  trar'  dl  na- 

6  Nothing,   (nuth'  ing),  not  any-  ri),  out  of  the  common  course  ;  more 

thing  ;  no  thing.  than  common. 

6  Design,  (de  sin'),  a  plan  formed  "  Do  cil'  i  ty,   ability  to  receive 

in    the   mind  of  something  to  be  instruction, 

done  .  intent.  "  Dil'  i  gence,  steady  attention- 


SIR    EDMUND    SAUNDERS.  89 

and  his  remarkable  intelligence,1  at  length  interested  the 
society  in  his  favor.  He  had  learned  to  read  by  means  of 
a  few  torn  pages  of  an  old  law-book,  with  the  occasional 
aid  of  a  good-natured  clerk ;  and  he  was  now  very  desirous 
to  learn  writing. 

6.  One  of  the  lawyers,  compassionating2  the  forlorn3 
boy,  had  a  board  nailed  up  beneath  a  window  on  the  top 
of  a  staircase,  and  upon  this  rude  desk  he  took  his  first 
lessons  in  writing,  by  copying  the  law-papers  and  •  other 
things  which  the  clerks  lent  him.  He  soon  made  himself 
quite  expert4  with  the  pen,  and  was  finally  enabled  to  earn 
a  little  money  as  a  copier. 

7.  Being  thus  relieved  from  his  former  servile 5  duties,  he 
gave  his  whole  attention  to  his  new  employments,  and  from 
poring6  over  interminable7  legal8  documents,9  he  at  last 
proceeded  to  the  study  of  law  itself.  It  was  a  matter  of 
much  amusement  among  his  early  friends,  the  clerks,  when 
they  found  the  little  beggar-boy  applying  to  them  for  the 
loan  of  books ;  but  perseverance  overcame  every  dif 'ficulty, 
and  in  the  course  of  time  he  succeeded  far  beyond  the  ex- 
pectations of  any  one. 

8.  He  became  a  special-pleader,  then  a  counselor10  at 
large,  and  finally  was  called  to  the  bar,  where  he  had  a 
large  practice  in  the  King's  Bench  Court.  Boger  North, 
son  of  the  Lord  Keeper  North,  who  personally  knew  him, 
says  :  "  As  to  his  ordinary  dealing,  he  was  as  honest  as  the 
driven  snow  is  white ;  as  for  his  parts,  none n  had  them 
more  lively  than  he  ;  and  while  he   sat  in  the  Court  of 

1  In  tel'  li  gence.  tlie  ability  to  "Poring,  (p6ring),  looking  with 
know  or  understand.  steady,  continued  attention. 

2  Com  pas'  sion  a  ting,  feeling  7  Interminable,  (in  teV  mi  na  bty 
■compassion  or  pity  for.  without  limit ;  endless. 

8  Forlorn,    (far  larn'),    deserted  ;        8  Le'  gal,  relating  to  the  law. 
destitute  or  forsaken.  9  Doc'  u  ments,  papers. 

4  Expert,  (eks  p^rt')  well  instruct-        10  Coun'  sel  or,  an  adviser  ;  one 

ed ;  skillful.  •  whose  business  is  to  give  advice  in 

6  Servile,  (sSrv'll),  slavish  ;  mean  ;  law,  and  manage  causes  for  others 

relating  to,  or  befitting  a  servant  or  in  court, 
slave.  "  None.,  (nun),  not  one ;  not  any, 


90  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

King's  Bench,  he  gave  the  rule  to  the  general  satisfaction 
of  the  lawyers." 

9.  That  poor  beggar-boy  was  Sir  Edmund  Saunders, 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench,  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  the  Second.  Such  were  the  results  of  perse- 
verance. Emma  C.  Embury 


vm. 

32.     COUNSELS    TO    THE    YOUNG. 

YOU  were  made  to  be  clean  and  neat  in  your  person 
and  in  your  dress,  and  gentlemanly  and  lady-like  in 
your  manners.  If  you  have  not  been  bitten  by  a  mad  dog, 
don't  be  afraid  of  fresh  water. 

2.  There  is  enough  water  in  the  world  to  keep  everybody 
clean ;  but  there  is  a  great  deal  of  it  never  finds  its  right 
place.  Take  as  much  as  you  need.  The  people  of  the 
West  boast  of  their  great  rivers — I  would  rather  they 
would  boast  of  using  a  large  tub-full  of  their  water  every 
day. 

3.  Contract  no  such  filthy  and  offensive  habit  as  chewing 
or  smoking  tobacco.  So  long  as  a  man  chews  or  smokes, 
though  a  very  Chesterfield1  in  every  thing  else  that  per- 
tains to  his  appearance,  he  can  never  be  quite  a  gentleman. 

4.  Tou  were  made  to  be  kind,  and  generous,2  and  mag- 
nanimous.3 If  there  is  a  boy  in  the  school  who  has  a  club- 
foot,4 don't  let  him  know  that  you  ever  saw  it.  If  there  is 
a  poor  boy  wifli  ragged  clofhes,  don't  talk  about  rags  when 
he  is  in  hearing.  If  there  is  a  lame  boy,  assign  him  some 
part  of  the  game  which  does  not  require  running. 

5.  If  there  is  a  hungry  boy,  give  him  a  part  of  your  din- 
ner.    If  there  is  a  dull  one,  help  him  get  his  lessons.     If 

i  Lord  Chesterfield  was  an  En-  ling  to  give  freely,  without  expect- 

glish  nobleman,  noted  for  his  fine  ing  any  thing  in  return, 

manners ;    hence,  any  one  who  is  3  Mag  nan'  i  mous,   of   a    noble 

noted  for  the  same  thing,  may  be  mind ;  having  high  intentions, 

called  a  Chesterfield.  4  Club-foot,   a  short,  deformed 

3  Gen'  er  ous,  free  ;  liberal  j  wil-  foot,  usually  so  from  birth. 


COUNSELS    TO    THE    YOUNG,  91 

there  is  a  bright  one,  be  not  envious l  of  him ;  for  if  one 
boy  is  proud  of  his  talents,  and  another  is  envious  of  them, 
there  are  two  great  wrongs,  and  no  more  talents  than  before. 

6.  If  a  larger  or  stronger  boy  has  injured  you,  and  is 
sorry  for  it,  forgive  him,  and  request  the  teacher  not  to 
punish  him.  All  the  school  will  show  by  their  countenances 
how  much  better  it  is  to  have  a  great  soul  than  a  great  fist. 

7.  You  were  made  to  learn.  Be  sure  you  learn  some- 
thing every  day.  When  you  go  to  bed  at  night,  if  you  can 
not  think  of  something  new  which  you  have  learned  during 
the  day,  spring  up  and  find  a  book,  and  get  an  idea  before 
you  sleep.  If  you  were  to  stop  eating,  would  not  your 
bodies  pine  and  famish  ?  If  you  stop  learning,  your  minds 
will  pine  and  famish  too. 

8.  You  all  desire  that  your  bodies  should  thrive  and 
grow,  until  you  become  as  tall  and  large  as  your  fathers  or 
mothers,  or  other  people.  You  would  not  like  to  stop 
growing  where  you  are  now — at  three  feet  high,  or  four 
feet,  or  even  at  five.  But  if  you  do  not  feed  your  minds  as 
wrell  as  your  bodies,  they  will  stop  growing ;  and  one  of  the 
poorest,  meanest,  most  des'picable 2  things  I  have  ever  seen 
in  the  world,  is  a  little  mind  in  a  great  body. 

9.  Suppose  there  was  a  muse'um3  in  your  neighborhood, 
full  of  all  rare  and  splendid  curiosities — should  you  not 
like  to  go  and  see  it  ?  Would  you  not  think  it  unkind  if 
you  were  forbidden  to  visit  it  ? 

10.  The  creation  is  a  muse'um,  all  full  and  crowded  wifii 
wonders,  and  beauties,  and  glories.  One  door,  and  only 
one,  is  open,  by  which  you  can  enter  this  magnificent4 
temple  :  it  is  the  door  of  knowledge.  The  learned  laborei, 
the  learned  peasant,  or  slave,  is  ever  made  welcome  at  this 
iloor,  while  the  ignorant,  though  kings,  are  shut  out. 

Horace  Mann. 

1  Envious,  (en'  vl  us),  repining,  or  8  Museum,  (mur  ze'  um|    a  place 

feeling  uneasy,  at  a  view  of  the  where  curious  things  are  kept  foi 

goodness,  success,  or  happiness  of  exhibition, 

another.  4  Mag'  nif  i  cent,  imposing  with 

a  Despicable,  (des' pi kabl),  vile;  splendor;    splendid;    on    a    grand 

contemptable ;  worthless.  scale;  grand  in  appearance. 


92  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

IX. 

33.     THE    WHISTLE. 

~\TT"HEN  I  was  a  child  about'  seven  years  of  age,  my 
VV  friends,  on  a  holiday,  filled  my  pocket  with  half- 
pence. I  went  direct'ly1  toward  a  shop,  where  toys  were 
sold  for  children ;  and  being  charmed  with  the  sound  of  a 
whistle,2  that  I  met  by  the  way,  in  the  hands  of  another 
boy,  I  voluntarily3  offered  him  all  my  money  for  it. 

2.  I  then  came  home,  and  went  whistling  over  the  house, 
much  pleased  with  my  whistle,  but  disturbing  all  the  family. 
My  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  cousins,  understanding  the 
bargain  I  had  made,  told  me  I  had  given  four  times  as 
much  for  it  as  it  was  worth.  This  put  me  in  mind  what 
good  things  I  might  have  bought  with  the  rest  of  the 
money;  and  they  laughed  at  me  so  much  for  my  folly, 
that  I  cried  with  vexation.4 

3.  My  reflections 5  on  the  subject  gave  me  more  chagrin 6 
than  the  ivhistle  gave  me  pleasure.  This  little  event,  how- 
ever, was  afterward  of  use  to  me,  the  impression7  continu- 
ing on  my  mind ;  so  that  often,  when  I  was  tempted  to  buy 
some  unnecessary  thing,  I  said  to  myself,  Bo  not  give  too 
much  for  tJte  whistle,  and  so  I  saved  my  money. 

4e  As  I  grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  observed  the 
actions  of  men,  I  thought  I  met  with  many,  very  many, 
who  gave  too  much  for  the  whistle. 

5.  When  I  saw  any  one  too  ambitious 8  of  court-favor, 
sacrificing  his  time  in  attendance  on  levees,9  his  repose,  his 

1  Directly,  (d!  rekt'l!),in  a  straight  thoughts  upon  any  thing  ;  continued 

course  or  line  ;  without  delay  ;   at  thought, 

once  ;  straightway.  6  Chagrin,   (shagrin'),  vexation 

a  Whistle,  (whls'  si).  ill-humor ;  shame. 

3  Vol'  un  ta  ri  ly,  of   one's   own  ■  Impression,    ( im  presh'  un  ), 
will ;     without    being     influenced,  mark,  influence,  or  effect, 
moved,  or  compelled  by  others.  8  Ambitious,  (am  bfsh'us),  strong 

4  Vexation,  (veks  a'  shun),  the  act  ly  desirous  of  office,  honor,  or  supe- 
or  state  of  being  made  angry  by  riority. 

little  provocations.  9  Lev'  ee,  a  morning  assembly  of 

1  Reflection,  (re  nek'  shun),  the  visitors  ;  company  received  by  per 
act  of  throwing  or  turning  back  the    sons  in  high  station. 


THE    WHISTLE.  t£j 

liberty,  his  virtue,  and  perhaps  his  friends,  to  attain  it,  I 
said  to  myself,  This  man  gives  too  much  for  his  whistle. 

6.  "When  I  saw  another  fond  of  popularity,1  constantly 
employing  himself  in  political  bustles,  neglecting  his  own 
affairs,  and  ruining  them  by  that  neglect ;  He  fays  indeed, 
said  I,  too  much  for  his  whistle. 

7.  If  I  knew  a  miser,  who  gave  up  every  kind  of  comfort- 
able living,  all  the  pleasure  of  doing  good  to  others,  all  the 
esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the  joys  of  benevolent 
friendship,  for  the  sake  of  accumulating 2  wealth ;  Poor  man. 
said  I,  you  indeed  pay  too  much  for  your  whistle. 

8.  When  I  met  a  man  of  pleasure,  sacrificing  every  laud- 
able improvement  of  mind,  or  of  fortune,  to  mere  sensual3 
gratifications ;  Mistaken  man  !  said  I,  you  are  providing  'pain 
for  yourself,  instead  of  pleasure  ;  you  give  too  much  for  your 
whistle. 

9.  If  I  saw  one  fond  of  fine  clothes,  fine  furniture,  fine 
equipage,4  all  above  his  fortune,  for  which  he  contracted 
debts,  and  ended  his  career 5  in  prison ;  Alas  !  said  I,  he  has 
paid  dear,  very  dear,  for  his  whistle.  . 

10.  In  short,  I  conceived  that  great  part  of  the  miseries 
of  mankind  are  brought  upon  them  by  the  false  estimate 
they  make  of  the  value  of  things,  and  by  their  giving  too 
much  for  their  whistles.  I>r.  Franklin. 


SECTION   VII. 
i. 

34.     WE    ARE    SEVEN. 

I  MET  a  little  cottage  girl ; 
She  was  eight  years  old,  she  said ; 
Her  hair  was  thick  with  many  a  curl 
That  clustered  round  her  head. 

1  Popy  u  lar'  i  ty,  favor  of  the  peo-  *  Sensual,  (sen'  sh§  al),  bodily, 

pie  ;  the  state  of  being  highly  es-  4  Equipage,   (ek;  we  paj),  horses 

teemed  or  beloved  by  the  people.  and  carriages. 

■  Ac  cu'  mu  lat  ing,  heaping  up.  6  Ca  reer',  a  way ;  course. 


94  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

2.  She  had  a  rustic,  woodland  air, 

And  she  was  wildly  clad ; 
Her  eyes  were  fair,  and  very  fair : 
Her  beauty  made  me  glad. 

3.  "  Sisters  and  brothers,  little  Maid, 

How  many  may  you  be  ?" 
"How  many?  Seven  in  all,"  she  said, 
And  wondering  looked  at  me. 

4.  "  And  where  are  they  ?  I  pray  you  telL9 

She  answered,  "  Seven  are  we  : 
And  two  of  us  at  Conway  dwell, 
And  two  are  gone  to  sea. 

5.  "  Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  lie — 

My  sister  and  my  brother ; 
And  in  the  churchyard  cottage,  I 
Dwell  near  them  with  my  mother." 

6.  "  You  say  that  two  at  Conway  dwell, 

And  two  are  gone  to  sea ; 
Yet  ye  are  seven !     I  pray  you  tell, 
Sweet  Maid,  how  this  may  be." 

7.  Then  did  the  little  Maid  reply : 

"  Seven  boys  and  girls  are  we ; 

Two  of  us  in  the  churchyard  he, 

Beneath  the  churchyard  tree." 

8.  "  You  run  about,  my  little  Maid, 

Your  limbs  they  are  alive ; 
If  two  are  in  the  churchyard  laid, 
Then  ye  are  only  five." 

9.  "  Their  graves  are  green,  they  may  be  seen," 

The  little  Maid  replied ; 
"  Twelve  steps  or  more  from  my  mother's  door, 
And  they  are  side  by  side. 

10.   "  My  stockings  there  I  often  knit, 
My  kerchief  there  I  hem ; 
And  there  upon  the  ground  I  sit — 
I  sit  and  sing  to  them. 


CHASE    OF    THE    PET    FAWM.  95 

11.  "  And  often  after  sunset,  sir, 

When  it  is  light  and  fair, 
I  take  my  little  porringer, 
And  eat  my  supper  there. 

12.  "  The  first  that  died  was  little  Jane ; 

In  bed  she  moaning  lay, 
Till  God  released  her  of  her  pain, 
And  then  she  went  away. 

13.  "  So  in  the  churchyard  she  was  laid ; 

And  when  the  grass  was  dry, 
Together  round  her  grave  we  played, 
My  brother  John  and  I. 

14.  "And when  the  ground  was  white  with  snow, 

And  I  could  run  and  slide, 
My  brother  John  was  forced  to  go, 
And  he  lies  by  her  side. 

15.  "  How  many  are  you  then,"  said  I, 

"  If  they  two  are  in  heaven  ?" 
The  little  Maiden  did  reply, 
"  Oh,  Master,  we  are  seven !" 

16.  "  But  they  are  dead  :  those  two  are  dead, 

Their  spirits  are  in  heaven !" 
'Twas  throwing  words  away ;  for  still 
The  little  Maid  would  have  her  will, 

And  said,  "  Nay,  we  are  seven  !" 

William  Wordswokth 

n. 

35.     CHASE    OF    THE    PET    FAWN. 

APEETTY  little  fawn  had  been  brought  in  from  the 
woods  when  very  young,  and  nursed  and  petted 
until  it  had  become  perfectly  tame.  It  was  graceful  as 
those  little  creatures  always  are,  and  so  gentle  and  playful 
that  it  became  a  great  favorite,  following  the  different 
members  of  the  family  about  the  village. 


06  NATIONAL-  THIRD    HEADER. 

2.  One  morning,  after  gamboling1  about  as  usual  until 
weary,  it  threw  itself  down  in  the  sunshine,  at  the  feet  of 
one  of  its  friends,  upon  the  steps  of  the  store.  There  came 
along  a  countryman,  who,  for  several  years,  had  been  a 
hunter,  and  who  still  kept  several  dogs.  One  of  the  hounds 
came  wifli  him  to  the  village  on  this  occasion.  The  dog 
as  it  approached  the  spot  where  the  fawn 2  lay,  suddenly 
stopped.  The  little  animal  saw  him  and  darted  to  its  feet. 
Notwithstanding  it  had  lived  more  than  half  its  life  among 
the  dogs  of  the  village,  and  had  apparently  lost  all  fear  of 
them,  yet  it  seemed  now  to  know  instinctively3  that  an 
enemy  was  at  hand.  In  an  instant,  a  change  came  over  it ; 
it  was  the  rousing  of  instinct  in  that  beautiful  creature. 

3.  In  a  second  its  whole  character  and  appearance 
seemed  changed ;  all  its  past  habits  were  forgotten,  every 
wild  impulse  was  awake ;  its  head  erect,  its  nostrils  dilated,4 
its  eye  flashing.  In  another  instant,  before  the  spectators 
had  thought  of  the  danger,  before  its  friends  could  secure 
it,  the  fawn  was  leaping  wildly  through  the  street  and  the 
hound  in  full  pursuit.  The  bystanders  were  eager  to  save  it. 
Several  persons  instantly  followed  its  track.  The  friends 
who  had  long  fed  and  fondled  it,  calling  the  name  it  had 
hitherto  known,  but  in  vain. 

4.  The  hunter  endeavored  to  whistle  back  his  dog,  but 
with  no  better  success.  In  half  a  minute  the  fawn  had 
turned  the  first  corner,  dashed  onward  toward  the  lake,  and 
thrown  itself  into  the  water.  For  a  moment  the  startled 
creature  believed  itself  safe  in  the  cool  bosom  of  the  lake ; 
but  it  was  soon  undeceived :  the  hound  followed  in  hot  and 
eager  chase,  while  a  dozen  villagers  joined  blindly  in  the 
pursuit. 

5.  Quite  a  crowd  collected  on  the  bank,  men,  women, 
and  children,  anxious  for  the  fate  of  the  little  animal  so 
well  known  to  them  all.     Some  jumped  into  boats,  hoping 


1  Gam'  bol  ing,  leaping  and  skip-  3  In  stinct'  ive  ly,    without   in*, 

ping  about  in  sport.  struction  ;  taught  by  nature. 

*  Fawn,  a  young  deer,  a  deer  of  *  Dilated,  (di  lat'  ed),  spread  out " 

the  first  year.  enlarged  in  all  directions. 


CHASE    OF    THE    PET    $AWN.  97 

to  intercept l  the  hound  before  he  reached  his  prey.  The 
plashing  of  the  oars,  the  eager  voices  of  the  men  and  boys, 
and  the  barking  of  the  dogs,  must  have  filled  the  beating 
heart  of  the  poor  fawn  with  terror  and  anguish,2  as  though 
every  creature  where  it  once  had  been  caressed  and  fondled, 
had  suddenly  turned  into  a  deadly  foe. 

6.  It  was  soon  sean  that  the  little  animal  was  directing 
its  course  across  a  bay  toward  the  nearest  borders  of  ths 
forest,  and  immediately  the  owner  of  the  hound  crossed 
the  bridge,  running  at  full  speed  in  the  same  direction, 
hoping  to  stop  his  dog  as  he  landed.  On  the  fawn  swam, 
as  it  never  swam  before,  its  delicate  head  scarcely  seen 
above  the  water,  but  leaving  a  disturbed  track,  which  be- 
trayed its  course  alike  to  anxious  friends  and  fierce  enemies. 

7.  As  it  approached  the  land,  the  exciting  interest  became 
intense.3  The  hunter  was  already  on  the  same  line  of  shore, 
calling  loudly  and  angrily  to  his  dog,  but  the  animal  seemed 
to  have  quite  forgotten  his  master's  voice  in  the  pitiless 
pursuit.  The  fawn  touched  the  land :  in  one  leap  it  crossed 
the  line  of  beach,  in  another  instant  it  was  in  the  woods. 

8.  The  hound  followed,  true  to  the  scent,  aiming  at  the 
same  spot  on  the  shore.  His  master,  anxious  to  meet  him, 
had  run  at  full  speed,  and  was  now  coming  up  at  a  most 
critical 4  moment.  Would  the  dog  hearken  to  his  voice,  or 
could  the  hunter  reach  him  in  time  to  seize  and  control 
him? 

9.  A  shout  from  the  village  bank  proclaimed  that  the 
fawn  had  passed  out  of  sight  into  the  forest ;  at  the  same 
instant,  the  hound,  as  he  touched  the  land,  felt  the  hunter's 
strong  arm  clutching  his  neck.  The  worst  was  believed  to 
be  over :  the  fawn  was  leaping  up  the  mountain-side,  and 
its  enemy  under  restraint.  The  other  dogs,  seeing  their 
leader  cowed,  were  easily  managed. 

10.  A  number  of  persons,  men  and  boys,  dispersed  them- 

1  Inv  ter  cept',  to  stop  on  its  pas-        "  In  tense',    strained  ;     tightly 
sage  ;  to  take  or  seize  by  the  way.        drawn ;  very  close. 

3  Anguish,  (ang'gwish),very  great        <  Crit'  ic  al,  important ;  decisive  ; 
pain,  either  of  body  or  mind.  dangerous. 

5 


98  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

selves  through  the  woods  in  search  of  their  favorite ;  but 
without  success.  They  all  returned  to  the  village,  reporting 
that  the  animal  had  not  been  seen  by  them.  Some  persons 
thought  that  after  its  fright  had  passed  over,  it  would 
return  of  its  own  accord.  It  had  worn  a  pretty  collar,  with 
its  owner's  name  engraved  upon  it,  so  that  it  could  be  easily 
known  from  any  other  fawn  that  might  be  straying  about 
the  woods. 

11.  Before  many  hours  had  passed,  a  hunter  presented 
himself  to  the  lady  whose  pet  the  little  creature  had  been, 
and,  showing  a  collar  with  her  name  upon  it,  said  that  he 
had  been  out  in  the  woods,  and  saw  a  fawn  in  the  distance ; 
the  little  animal  instead  of  bounding  away  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, moved  toward  him,  and  he  took  aim,  fired,  and  shot 
it  to  the  heart.  "When  he  found  the  collar  about  its  neck, 
he  was  very  sorry  that  he  had  killed  it. 

12.  And  thus  the  poor  little  thing  lost  its  life.  One 
would  have  thought  that  such  a  terrible  chase  would  have 
made  it  afraid  of  man ;  but  no,  it  forgot  the  evil  and  re- 
membered the  kindness  only,  and  came  to  meet  as  a  friend 
the  hunter  who  shot  it.  Miss  Cooper. 


m. 

36.     LUCY    GRAY. 

NO  mate,  no  comrade,1  Lucy  knew ; 
She  dwelt  on  a  wide  moor  ;2 
The  sweetest  thing  that  ever  grew 
Beside  a  cottage  door ! 

2.  You  may  spy3  the  fawn  at  play, 
The  hare 4  upon  the  green ; 
But  the  sweet  face  of  Lucy  Gray 
Will  never  more  be  seen. 

1  Com'  rade,  associate,  mate,  or  '  Spy,  gain  sight  of;  discover  at 

companion.  a  distance ;  see. 

7  Moor,  meadow-land  of  great  ex-  4  Hare,  (har),  a  small,  timid  an 

tent,  having  a  poor,  light  soil.  imal. 


LUCY  GRAY. 


99 


3.   "  To-night  will  be  a  stormy  night, 
You  to  the  town  must  go  ; 
And  take  a  lantern,  child,  to  light 
Your l  mother  through 2  the  snow." 

4   "  That,  father,  I  will  gladly  do  : 
'Tis  scarcely3  afternoon — 
The  minster4  clock  has  just  struck  two, 
And  yonder  is  the  moon." 

5.   At  this  the  father  raised  his  hook, 
And  snapped  a  fagot  band ; 
He  plied  his  work,  and  Lucy  took 
The  lantern  in  her  hand. 


1  Your,  £*6r). 

•  Through,  (thrft). 


8  Scarcely,  (sk ars'  1!),  hardly. 
*  Min'  ster.  church* 


100  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

6.  Not  blither Y  is  the  mountain  roe  : 2 

With  many  a  wanton3  stroke, 
Her  feet  disperse 4  the  powdery  snow, 
That  rises  up  like  smoke.  s 

7.  The  storm  came  on  before  its  time  : 

She  wandered  up  and  down, 

And  many  a  hill  did  Lucy  climb, 

But  never  reached  the  town. 

8.  The  wretched  par'ents  all  that  night 

Went  shouting  far  and  wide ; 
But  there  was  neither  sound  nor  sight 
To  serve  them  for  a  guide. 

9.  At  daybreak  on  a  hill  they  stood, 

That  overlooked  the  moor ; 
And  thence  they  saw  the  bridge  of  wood, 
A  furlong 5  from  the  door. 

10.  They  wept,  and,  turning  homeward,  cried, 

"In  heaven  we  all  shall  meet" — 
When  in  the  snow  the  mother  spied 
The  print  of  Lucy's  feet ! 

11.  Half  breathless,  from  the  steep  hill's  edge 

They  tracked  the  footmarks  small ; 
And  through  the  broken  hawthorn  hedge,6 
And  by  the  long  stone  wall ; 

12.  And  then  an  open  field  they  crossed — 

The  marks  were  still  the  same ; 
They  track  them  on,  nor  ever  lost, 
And  to  the  bridge  they  came. 

13.  They  followed  from  the  snowy  bank 

Those  footmarks,  one  by  one, 
Into  the  middle  of  the  plank — 
And  further  there  were  none ! 

1  Blither,  (bllfh'  er),  more  joyous ;  B  Furlong,  (feY  long),  forty  rods ; 

more  gay  the  eighth  part  of  a  mile. 

3  Roe,  the  female  deer.  6  Hedge,  (hej),  very  many  shrubs 

3  Wanton,  (won'  tun),  playful.  and  trees  growing ;  a  fence  formed 

4  Dis  perse',  scatter.  of  growing  bushes. 


THE    LITTLE    BOY    THAT:  I)I&1>  j  l^J 

14.   You  yet  may  spy  the  fawri  ai.ipiayi 
The  hare  upon  the  green ; 
But  the  sweet  face  of  Lucy  Gray 
Will  never  more  be  seen. 

William  Wobdswokth. 


IV. 

37.     THE    LITTLE    BOY    THAT    DIED. 

JAM  all  alone  in  my  chamber  now, 
And  the  midnight  hour  is  near, 
And  the  fagot'3  crack,  and  the  clock's  dull  tick, 

Are  the  only  sounds  I  hear  ; 
And  over  my  soul,  in  its  solitude,1 
Sweet  feelings  of  sadness  glide  ; 
For  my  heart  and  my  eyes  are  full,  when  I  think 
Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

2.  I  went  one  night  to  my  father's  house- 

Went  home  to  the  dear  ones  all, 
And  softly  I  opened  the  garden  gate, 

And  softly  the  door  of  the  hall : 
My  mother  came  out  to  meet  her  son, 

She  kissed  me,  and  then  she  sighed, 
And  her  head  fell  on  my  neck,  and  she  wept 

For  the  little  boy  that  died. 

3.  And  when  I  gazed  on  his  innocent  face, 

As  still  and  cold  he  lay, 
And  thought  what  a  lovely  child  he  had  been, 

And  how  soon  he  must  decay : 
"  O  Death !  thou  lovest  the  beautiful," 

In  the  woe  of  my  spirit  I  cried ; 
For  sparkled  the  eyes,  and  the  forehead2  was  fair,1 

Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

i  Sol'  i  tude,  the  state  of  being        2  Forehead,  (f6r'  ed). 
alone;  loneliness.  3 Fair,  (far). 


10kj  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

4   Again  \  I  will  go  to  my  father's  house, 

Go  home  to  the  dear  ones  all, 
And  sadly  I'll  open  the  garden  gate, 

And  sadly  the  door  of  the  hall : 
I  shall  meet  my  mother,  but  never  more 

With  her  darling  by  her  side ; 
But  she'll  ldss  me,  and  sigh  and  weep  again 

For  the  little  boy  that  died. 

5.  I  shall  miss  him  when  the  flowers  come 

In  the  garden  where  he  played ; 
I  shall  miss  him  more  by  the  fireside, 

When  the  flowers  have  all  decayed ; 
I  shall  see  his  toys  and  his  empty  chair, 

And  the  horse  he  used  to  ride ; 
And  they  will  speak  with  a  silent  speech, 

Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

6.  I  shall  see  his  little  sister  again 

With  her  playmates  about  the  door 
And  I'll  watch  the  children  in  their  sports, 

As  I  never  did  before ; 
And  if  in  the  group 2 1  see  a  child 

That's  dimpled  and  laughing-eyed, 
I'll  look  to  see  if  it  may  not  be 

The  little  boy  that  died. 

7.  We  shall  all  go  home  to  our  Father's  house — 

To  our  Father's  house  in  the  skies, 
Where  the  hope  of  our  souls  shall  have  no  blight,3 

And  our  love  no  broken  ties : 
We  shall  roam  on  the  banks  of  the  River  of  Peace, 

And  bafhe  in  its  blissful  tide  ; 
And  one  of  the  joys  of  our  heaven  shall  be 

The  little  boy  that  died! 

1  Again,  (a  gen).  3  Blight,  mildew  ;    decay  ;     any 

*  Group,   crowd ;  a  number  as-     thing    nipping    or   blasting ;    that 
sembled.  which  impairs  or  destroys 


THE    CHILD    IS    DEAD.  103 

And  therefore  when  I'm  sitting  alone, 

And  the  midnight  hour  is  near, 
When  the  fagot's  crack  and  the  clock's  dull  tick 

Are  the  only  sounds  I  hear, 
Oh !  sweet  o'er  my  soul  in  its  solitude 

Are  the  feelings  of  sadness  that  glide, 

Though  my  heart  and  my  eyes  are  full  when  I  think 

Of  the  little  boy  that  died. 

J.  D.  Robinson. 


V. 

88.     THE    CHILD    IS    DEAD. 

IT  is  hard  to  believe  it :  that  we  shall  no  more  hear  the 
glad  voice,  nor  meet  the  merry  laugh  that  burst  so  often 
from  its  glad  heart. 

2.  Child  as  it  was,  it  was  a  pleasant  child,  and  to  the 
partial  par'ent  there  are  traits  of  loveliness  that  no  other 
eye  may  see.  It  was  a  wise  ordering  of  Providence  that 
we  should  love  our  own  children  as  no  one  else  loves  them, 
and  as  we  love  the  children  of  none  besides.  And  ours 
was  a  lovely  child. 

3.  But  the  child  is  dead.  You  may  put  away  its  play- 
things. Put  them  where  they  will  be  safe.  1  would  not 
like  to  have  them  broken  or  lost ;  and  you  need  not  lend 
them  to  other  children  when  they  come  to  see  us.  It 
would  pain  me  to  see  them  in  other  hands,  much  as  I  love 
to  see  children  happy  wifh  their  toys. 

4.  Its  clothes  you  may  lay  aside ;  I  shall  often  look  them 
over,  and  each  of  the  colors  that  he  wore  will  remind  me 
of  him  as  he  looked  when  he  was  here.  I  shall  weep  often 
when  I  think  of  him  ;  but  there  is  a  luxury x  in  thinking  of 
the  one  that  is  gone,  which  I  would  not  part  with  for  the 
world.     I  think  of  my  child  now,  a  child  always,  though 

an  angel  among  angels. 

j — i 

'Luxury,  (luk'  sh8  rf),  any  very  gence  in  costly  food,  clothes,  etc.;  that 
nice  food  or  drink  ;  too  free  indul-    which  is  delightful  to  the  senses. 


104  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

5.  The  child  is  dead.  The  eye  has  lost  its  luster.1  The 
hand  is  still  and  cold.  Its  little  heart  is  not  beating  now. 
How  pale  it  looks!  Yet  the  very  form  is  dear  to  me. 
Every  lock  of  its  hair,  every  feature  of  its  face,  is  a  treasure 
that  I  shall  prize  the  more,  as  the  months  of  my  sorrow 
come  and  go. 

6.  Lay  the  little  one  in  his  coffin.  He  was  never  in  so 
cold  and  hard  a  bed ;  but  he  will  feel  it  not.  He  would 
not  know  it,  if  he  had  been  laid  in  his  cradle,  or  in  his 
mother's  arms.  Throw  a  flower  or  two  by  his  side :  like 
them  he  withered. 

7.  Carry  him  out  to  the  grave.  Gently.  It  is  a  hard  road 
this  to  the  grave.  Every  jar  seems  to  disturb  the  infant 
sleeper.  Here  we  are  at  the  brink  of  the  sepulcher.2  Oh, 
how  damp,  and  dark,  and  cold !  But  the  dead  do  not  fee] 
it.  There  is  no  pain,  no  fear,  no  weeping  there.  Sleep  on 
now,  and  take  your  rest. 

8.  Fill  it  up!  Ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust!  Every 
clod  seems  to  fall  on  my  heart.  Every  smothered  sound 
from  the  grave  is  saying,  Gone,  gone,  gone !  It  is  full  now. 
Lay  the  turf3  gently  over  the  dear  child.  Plant  a  myrtle4 
among  the  sods,  and  let  the  little  one  sleep  among  the  trees 
and  flowers.  Our  child  is  not  there.  His  dust,  precious 
dust,  indeed,  is  there,  but  our  child  is  in  heaven.  He  is 
not  here  :  he  is  risen. 

9.  I  shall  think  of  the  form  that  is  moldering  here  among 
the  dead ;  and  it  will  be  a  mournful  comfort  to  come,  at 
times,  and  think  of  the  child  that  was  once  the  light  of  our 
house,  and  the  idol5— ah !  that  I  must  own  the  secret  of  this 
sorrow — the  idol  of  my  heart !  S.  I.  Pkimb. 

1  litis'  ter,  brightness.  plants  so  as  to  hold  together  and 
a  Sep'  ul  cher,  a  tomb ;  a  grave ;  form  a  kind  of  mat ;  sward ;  sod. 
the  place  in  which  a  human  being  *  Myrtle,  (meV  tl),  a  kind  of  flow- 
is  buried,  or  a  place  intended  for  ering  shrub,  or  small  tree,  having 
that  purpose.  evergreen    leaves    and  small    pale 

3  Turf,  (t^rf),  that  upper  part  of  flowers, 

earth  or  mold  which  is  filled  with  6  I'  dol,  that  on  which  the  affeo 

the  roots  of  grass  and  other  small  tions  are  too  strongly  set. 


EVA'S    HOME* 


105 


VI. 

39.     EVA'S    HOME, 

A  COTTAGE  in  a  peaceful  vale, 
A  jasmine l  round  the  door, 
A  hill  to  shelter  from  the  gale, 
A  silver  brook  before. 

2.   Oh,  sweet  the  jasmine's  buds  of  snow, 
In  mornings  soft  with  May ! 
Oh,  silver-clear  the  waves  that  flow, 
Reflecting 2  heaven,  away ! 


1  Jasmine,  (jaz'  m!n),  a  climbing       *  Re  fleet'  ing,    throwing    back 
plant  of  a  peculiarly  sweet  smell.        Hglit,  heat,  etc. 


106  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

3.  A  sweeter  bloom  to  Eva's  youth 

Rejoicing  Nature  gave ; 
And  heaven  was  mirrored l  in  her  truth 
More  clear  than  on  the  wave. 

4.  Oft  to  that  lone  sequestered2  place 

My  boyish  steps  would  roam, 
There  was  a  look  in  Eva's  face 
That  seemed  a  smile  of  home. 

5.  And  6ft  I  paused  to  hear  at  noon 

A  voice  that  sang  for  glee  ; 
Or  mark  the  white  neck  glancing  down, 
The  book  upon  the  knee. 

6.  The  cottage  in  the  peaceful  vale, 

The  jasmine  round  the  door, 
The  hill  still  shelters  from  the  gale, 
The  brook  still  glides  before. 

7.  Still  sweet  the  jasmine's  buds  of  snow, 

But  'neafh  the  yew-tree's  shade, 

Where  silver-clear  the  waves  still  flow. 

Her  holy  dust  is  laid. 

Altered  from  Lytton. 

vn. 

40.  THE  CHILD  AND  THE  MOURNERS. 

A  LITTLE  child,  beneafli  a  tree 
Sat  and  chanted3  cheerily 
A  little  song,  a  pleasant  song, 
Which  was — she  sang  it  all  day  long — 
"When  the  wind  blows  the  blossoms  fall; 
But  a  good  God  reigns  over  all." 

2.   There  passed  a  lady  by  the  way, 
Moaning 4  in  the  face  of  day : 

1  Mir'  rored,  reflected  or  exhib-  3  Chanted,    (chant'  ed),    uttered 

ited  as  in  a  mirror.  with  a  melodious  voice  ;  sung. 

*  Sequestered,    ( se  kwes'  terd ),  4  Moan'  ing,  making  a  low,  dull 

separated  from  others  for  the  sake  sound  of  grief  or  pain ;  complain- 

of  privacy ;  retired.  ing. 


THE    CHILD   AND    THE    MOURNERS.  107 

There  were  tears  upon  her  cheek, 
Grief  in  her  heart  too  great  to  speak ; 
Her  husband  died  but  yester-morn, 
And  left  her  in  the  world  forlorn.1 

3.  She  stopped  and  listened  to  the  child 
That  looked  to  heaven,  and  singing,  smiled, 
And  saw  not  for  her  own  despair,2 
Another  lady,  young  and  fair, 

Who,  also  passing,  stopped  to  hear 
The  infant's  anthem 3  ringing  clear. 

4.  For  she  but  few  sad  days  before 
Had  lost  the  little  babe  she  bore ; 
And  grief  was  heavy  at  her  soul 

As  that  sweet  memory  o'er  her  stole, 
And  showed  how  bright  had  been  the  past. 
The  present  drear 4  and  overcast. 

5.  And  as  they  stood  beneafli  the  tree 
Listening,  soothed  and  placidly,5 

A  youth 6  came  by,  whose  sunken  eyes 
Spake  of  a  load  of  miseries  ; 
And  he,  arrested 7  like  the  twain,8 
Stopped  to  listen  to  the  strain. 

6.  Death  had  bowed  the  youthful  head 

Of  his  bride  beloved,  of  his  bride  unwed : 
Her  marriage  robes  were  fitted  on, 
Her  fair  young  face  with  blushes  shone, 
"When  the  destroyer  smote  her  low, 
And  changed  the  lover's  bliss  to  woe. 

7.  And  these  three  listened  to  the  song, 
Silver-toned,  and  sweet,  and  strong, 

1  For  lorn',    forsaken  ;    without        4  Drear,  dismal ;  gloomy, 
friends.  6  Plac'  id  ly,  calmly  ;  mildly. 

a  Des  pair',  the  loss  of  all  hope.  *  Youth,  (ySth). 

8  An'  them,   any  church    music        7  Ar  rest'  ed,  held  or  restrained 

adapted  to  passages  from  the  Bible ;  from  moving. 
Q  song.  8  Twain,  two. 


108  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Which  that  child,  the  livelong  day, 
Chanted  to  itself  in  play — 
"  When  the  wind  blows  She  blossoms  fall, 
But  a  good  God  reigns  over  all." 

8.  The  widow's  lips  impulsive 1  moved ; 
The  mother's  grief,  though  unreproved, 
Softened,  as  her  trembling  tongue 
Repeated  what  the  infant  sung ; 

And  the  sad  lover,  with  a  start, 
Conned2  it  over  in  his  heart. 

9.  And  though  the  child — if  child  it  Ttere, 
And  not  a  seraph 3  sitting  there — 
Was  seen  no  more,  the  sorrowing  three 
Went  on  their  way  resignedly, 

The  song  still  ringing  in  their  ears : 
Was  it  music  from  the  spheres  ? 4 

10.   Who  shall  tell?     They  did  not  know. 
But  in  the  midst  of  deepest  woe 
The  strain  recurred 5  when  sorrow  grew ; 
To  warn  them,  and  console 6  them  too — 
"  When  the  wind  blows  the  blossoms  fall, 
But  a  good  God  reigns  over  all." 

Charles  Mackay. 


SECTION   VIII. 
i. 

41.     DISOBEDIENCE. 

YOU    have    never  disobeyed  your  parents,   or  your 
teachers,  or  any  who  have  been  placed  in  authority " 
over    you,   without    being  uncomfortable    and  unhappy ! 

1  Im  pul'  sive,  with  quick  force.  moon,  and  stars  made  music  as  they 

a  Conned,  studied  ;  considered.  moved  ;  hence,  music  of  the  spheres.. 

8  Ser'  aph,  an  angel  of  the  highest  5  Recurred,  (re  k^rd),  came  again, 

order.  6  Con  sole',  to  comfort. 

4  Spheres,  (sfers),  worlds.    The  7  Authority,  (a  th6r' !  tl),  rightful 

ancients  had  an  idea  that  the  sun,  power ;  a  risrht  to  act  or  to  command. 


DISOBEDIENCE.  109 

Obedience,1  in  a  child,  is  one  of  the  most  necessary  qual- 
ities ;  for  it  protects  him  from  all  the  evils  of  his  want  of 
experience,2  and  gives  him  the  benefit  of  the  experience  of 
others. 

2.  One  fine  summer's  day,  I  went  to  spend  an  afternoon 
at  a  house  in  the  country,  where  some  young  people  were 
enjoying  a  holiday. 

3.  They  were  running  cheerfully  up  and  down  a  meadow, 
covered  over  with  yellow  crocuses,  and  other  flowers ;  and 
I  looked  on  them  with  delight,  while  they  gamboled  and 
made  posies,  as  they  felt  disposed. 

"  Here  sister  with  sister  roamed  over  the  mead,8 
And  brother  plucked  flow'rets  with  brother  ; 
And  playmates  with  playmates  ran  on  with  such  speed 
That  the  one  tumbled  over  the  other." 

4  Now,  they  all  had  been  told  to  keep  away  from  the 
ditch  at  the  bottom  of  the  field ;  but,  notwithstanding  this 
injunction,4  one  little  urchin,5  of  the  name  of  Jarvis,  seeing 
a  flower  in  the  hedge  on  the  opposite  bank,  which  he 
wished  to  gather,  crept  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  ditch.  The 
closer  he  got  to  the  flower,  the  more  beautiful  it  appeared 
to  be,  and  the  stronger  the  temptation6  became  to  pluck  it. 

5.  Now,  what  right  had  he  to  put  himself  in  the  way  of 
temptation  ?  The  field,  as  I  said  before,  was  covered  over 
with  flowers ;  and  that  in  the  hedge  was  no  better  than  the 
rest,  only  it  was  a  forbidden  flower,  and  when  any  thing  is 
forbidden  it  becomes,  on  that  very  account,  a  greater  temp- 
tation to  a  disobedient  heart. 

6.  Jarvis  had  gathered  a  whole  handful  of  flowers  before 
he  saw  the  one  growing  in  the  hedge ;  but  he  threw  all 

1  O  be  di  ence,  the  state  of  being  3  Mead,  a  meadow, 

willing  to  obey  ;  a  ready  compliance  4  Injunction,  (in  junk'  shun),  or. 

with  that  which  is  required  by  right-  der  or  command, 

ful  authority.  6  Urchin,    (eY  chin),    a    pert    or 

1  Expe'  ri  ence,  frequent  trial  of  rough  little  fellow  ;  a  child. 

a  matter ;  wisdom  gained  by  experi-  •  Temp  ta'  tion,  the  state  of  being 

ence ;  useful  knowledge  taught  by  tempted,  or  enticed  to  evil ;   that 

'.he  change?  and  trials  of  life.  which  tempts. 


£10  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

these  away,  so  much  was  his  mind  set  on  getting  the  one 
which  he  wanted. 

7.  Unluckily  for  him,  on  getting  down  the  bank  his  foot 
slipped,  and  down  he  rolled  into  a  bed  of  stinging  nettles, 
at  the  bottom  of  the  ditch  which  fortunately  happened  to 
have  in  it  but  little  water. 

8.  Jaryis  screamed  out  with  might  and  main,  as  he  lay 
on  his  back ;  for,  whichever  way  he  turned,  his  cheeks  and 
his  fingers  brushed  against  the  nettles. 

9.  His  cries  soon  brought  his  companions  around  him ; 
but,  as  they  were  all  young,  they  knew  not  how  to  render 
him  assistance,  on  account  of  the  stinging  nettles,  and  the 
depth  of  the  ditch. 

10.  I  ran  to  the  spot,  and  pulled  up  Master  Jaryis  in  a 
pietty  state,  his  jacket  and  trowsers  plastered  with  mud, 
and  his  hands  and  face  covered  with  blotches.  Here  was 
the  fruit  of  disobedience !  And  as  it  was  with  Jarvis,  so 
will  it  be  with  every  one  who  acts  disobediently. 

11.  Whenever  you  feel  a  temptation  to  disobey  God ;  to 
disobey  his  holy  word ;  to  disobey  the  admonitions x  of  your 
own  conscience ; 2  to  disobey  your  parents,  your  teachers, 
or  any  in  authority  over  you,  be  sure  that  a  punishment 
awaits  you,  if  you  do  not  resist  it. 

n. 

42.     THE    TWO    SCHOOLMATES. 

IN  a  pleasant  village  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Hudson,  on 
a  sunny,  sandy  spot,  stood  the  old  yellow  school-house. 
Among  the  many  laughing  children  that  played  around  it 
thirty-five  years  ago,  were  two  boys,  Frank  and  Edward. 

2.  They  were  nearly  of  the  same  age ;  they  sat  on  the 
same  seat,  studied  the  same  lessons,  and  read  from  the  same 
book.  Their  fathers  were  both  rich,  were  very  fond  of  their 
sons,  and  hoped  they  would  grow  up  wise  and  good  men. 

1  Admonition,  (adr  m6  nlsh'  un),  power  or  principle  within  us  which 

caution  against  a  fault  or  error ;  gen-  decides  on  the  lawfulness  or  unlaw- 

tie  or  friendly  reproof.  fulness  of  our  actions  and  affections 

a  Conscience,    (kon'  ehens),   the  and  approves  or  condemns  them 


THE    FOSTER-CHILD.  1H 

3.  Edward  could  learn  very  easily.  If  he  only  read  ovei 
his  lesson  once  or  twice,  he  could  recite  it  well ;  so  that  he 
had  a  great  deal  of  time  to  play,  even  in  school-hours. 

4.  With  Frank  it  was  quite  otherwise.  Every  thing  he 
learned  was  by  hard  study.  While  the l  other  boys  were 
playing  and  shouting  at  recess,2  he  was  at  his  books. 

5.  When  strangers  visited  the  school,  they  would  say: 
"  What  a  bright  boy  Edward  is !     How  well  he  knows  his 
lesson !    What  a  fine  man  he  will  be !"     But  no  such  com- 
pliment3 was  ever  heard  for  poor  Frank. 

6.  The  boys  grew  to  be  young  men,  and  their  fathers 
sent  them  to  college.  Here  it  was  just  the  same.  Edward 
did  not  study  much,  yet  he  generally  recited  well ;  Frank 
was  never  idle,  and  yet  he  was  often  called  dull. 

7.  Time  passed  on.  The  young  men  left  college  and 
commenced  business.  Then  their  friends  found  they  had 
been  mistaken.  Edward  had  formed  bad  habits ;  he  had 
grown  idle  and  careless,  and  too  fond  of  pleasure. 

8.  With  these  faults  no  man  can  succeed  in  business,  and 
thus  he  sadly  disappointed  all  the  fond  hopes  of  his  friends. 
Frank,  on  the  other  hand,  was  patient  and  industrious. 
"Try,  try  again,"  had  always  been  his  motto,  and  God 
blessed  his  efforts. 

9.  He  is  now  an  eminent 4  physician  in  one  of  our  largest 
cities ;  while  his  early  playmate,  the  bright,  but  idle  Ed- 
ward, is  a  disgrace  to  his  family—  a  worthless  drunkard. 

in. 

43.     THE    FOSTER-CHILD. 
PAKT  FIRST. 

APOOE  woman  entered  the  parlor  of  a  lady  for 
whom  she  had  sometimes  worked.  She  led  by  the 
hand  a  little  boy,  poorly  clad,  and  of  a  sad  countenance. 
To  the  questions  addressed  to  her,  she  mournfully  replied : 

1  The,  see  Rule  3,  p.  24  3  Com'  pli  ment,  words  of  praise 

'  Re  cess',  a  withdrawing  or  re  said  merely  to  please. 

tiring' ;  a  moving  back  ;  an  interims-  4  Em'  i  nent,  above  others ;  much 

sion  ;  a  short  delay  or  rest.      ■  esteemed 


112  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

2.  "  He  is  my  child.  His  father  has  been  dead  since  he 
was  a  baby.  Six  months  since,  I  married  again.  He  seems 
not  to  be  welcome  to  his  new  father.  It  grows  worse  and 
worse.  Sometimes  he  goes  hungry,  and  sometimes  he  is 
badly  beaten." 

3.  Then  weeping,  she  added,  "  I  can  not  deny  that  my 
husband,  now  and  then,  drinks  too  much.  Then  it  is  bad 
for  us  both,  but  worst  of  all  for  the  poor  boy.  "When  I  go 
out  to  work,  I  can  not  leave  him  at  home,  for  fear  he  might 
be  killed  while  I  am  gone-  The  people  who  hire  me,  do 
not  like  to  have  me  bring  a  child  wifh  me. 

4.  "  Oh  dear  mad'am,  will  you  not  let  him  live  wifh  you  ? 
Take  him,  I  pray,  and  do  what  you  will  with  him,  for  our 
misery  is  great.  I  feel  that  I  can  not  live  long,  and  my 
only  fear  of  death  is,  that  I  must  leave  him  alone  to  suffer. 
O,  lady !  lady !  you,  whose  two  sweet  children  are  in  the 
grave,  have  pity  on  us." 

5.  And  as  the  boy  looked  timidly  up,  there  was  a  large, 
round  tear  in  each  blue  eye,  like  a  dew-drop  upon  a  violet. 
The  heart  of  the  bereaved *  one  yearned 2  over  him ;  and 
she  bade  the  poor  mother  bring  him  again  to-morrow. 
That  night,  she  consulted  her  husband,  and  he  said,  "  Do 
as  thou  wilt  in  this  matter,  for  the  Lord  is  wifh  thee." 

6.  The  next  morning  the  sad  pair  presented  themselves. 
The  lady  took  the  child  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  I  will  be  a 
mother  to  him.  So  help  me,  God."  The  poor  woman  fell 
on  her  knees,  and  praised  the  Lord,  saying,  that  now  she 
was  ready  to  die  in  peace. 

7.  The  boy  was  overjoyed  to  find  that  a  bath,3  and  a  suit 
of  neat  clothes,  and  a  comfortable  meal  awaited  him.  Still 
more  oppressed 4  was  he  wifh  wonder,  when  the  gentleman 
came  home,  and  he  was  told  he  might  call  him  father.    He 

1  Be  reaved',  made  destitute  ;  one  8  Bath,  (bath),  a  vessel  of  water 
from  whom  a  loved  object  has  been  for  persons  to  plunge  or  wash  their 
taken  bodies  in. 

2  Yearned,  (ySrnd).  was  filled  4  Op  pressed',  overwhelmed ; 
with  longing  desire;  was  imved  by  bowed  down;  burdened  or  con 
feelings  of  affection  oi  tenderness.  strained  ;  overpowered. 


THE    FOSTEK-CHILD.  113 

bowed  himself  low,  as  he  uttered  the  word,  and  turning  to 
his  kind  benefactress,  whispered :  "  He  will  not  beat  me, 
when  he  gets  back  to-night,  will  he  ?" 

8.  When  he  was  led,  at  retiring,  to  a  little  chamber,  and 
a  nicer  bed  than,  perhaps,  he  had  ever  before  seen,  he 
kneeled  beside  it,  as  his  poor  mother  had  taught  him,  and 
murmured,  "What  shall  I  say?  Oh,  what  shall  I  say? 
My  old  prayers  won't  do."  So  filled  was  he  with  amaze- 
ment and  gratitude,  that  his  few  words  were  in  sobs  :  "Oh, 
good  Lord !  good  Lord !  Take  care  of  poor  mother,  and 
don't  ever  let  me  go  back  any  more." 


IV. 

44.     THE    FOSTER-CHILD. 

PART  SECOND. 

HIS  zeal  to  serve  and  please  those  who  so  nobly  shel- 
tered him,  knew  no  bounds.  "  What  shall  I  do  for 
you,  my  lady — mother,  I  mean  ?  Please  let  me  do  some- 
thing." 

2.  His  earnest  application l  in  learning  to  read,  and  com- 
mitting 2  verses  and  hymns,  created  some  anxiety,  lest  his 
health  should  suffer.  His  judicious 3  foster-mother 4  devised 5 
modes  of  exercise  and  light  labor  for  him,  and  wished  to 
allure6  him  to  athletic7  plays;  but  he  never  seemed  so 
happy  as  when  near  her  side. 

3.  He  was  fond  of  repeating  to  himself,  after  he  had 
retired,  passages  from  the  Bible,  which  he  committed  to 
memory.  It  would  seem  that  he  dwelt  most  upon  those 
which  seemed  to  have  reference  to  his  own  past  or  pres- 
ent condition.      He  was  heard  many  times  to  say  in  his 

'  Ap  pli  ca  tion,  the  act  of  fixing        4  Fos'  ter-mothx  er,    one  in  the 

the  mind ;  close  attention.  place  of  a  mother. 

*  Com  mit'  ting,  learning.  ;  De  vised7,  made ;    found    out ; 

8  Judicious,  (judish'  us),  accord-  planned, 
ing  to  sound  judgment;  discreet;        8  Al  lure',  entice ;  draw;  attract 
prudent :  wise.  T  Ath  let'  ic,  vigorous ;  strong. 


114  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

solitary1   apart'ment,2  with  tender  intonations,3   "I  was 
brought  low,  and  He  lielped  me" 

4.  The  excellent  pair,  who  extended  to  him  their  kind 
protection,4  felt  for  the  amiable 5  child  a  true  parental  re- 
gard. God's  blessing  seemed  to  descend  into  their  hearts, 
and  comfort  them  for  the  children  they  had  lost,  with  a 
a  quiet  joy  in  the  one  they  had  found.  Yet  they  could  not 
repress  their  anxiety  at  the  increasing  indications6  of  his 
failing  health. 

5.  Whether  it  was  the  result  of  a  naturally  feeble  consti- 
tution, or  of  the  hardships  he  had  endured  from  an  intem- 
perate man's  tyranny,7  the  physicians  were  not  agreed. 
His  poor  mother  had  died  a  few  months  after  his  adoption. 
It  was  God's  will  that  in  less  than  a  year  he  should  follow 
her.  Every  care  that  skill  and  affection  could  devise,  was 
lavished8  on  the  orphan,9  but  in  vain. 

6.  When  so  weak,  as  to  be  unable  to  walk,  he  steadfastly 
regarded  the  bed  on  which  he  was  laid,  and  said,  "  Is  this 
my  death-bed?  my  death-bed?"  He  seemed  to  have  im- 
bibed 10  the  impression  that  it  would  differ  in  aspect u  from 
other  places  of  repose,  having  heard  it  spoken  of  with 
solemnity.12  Having  scanned13  it  with  attention,  he  laid 
down  his  head,  repeating :  "  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

7.  To  his  kind  foster-mother,  as  she  watched  over  him, 
he  said,  once  at  midnight,  "  I  shall  go  to  your  boy  and  girl. 
Will  they  be  angry  with  me,  because  I  lived  in  their  house, 

1  Sol'  i  ta  ry,  single ;  not  much  T  Tyranny,  (tir'  an  ni),  cruel  gov- 
visited ;  being  by  one's  self.  ernment ;  severity. 

2  A  part'  ment,  a  division  or  room  8  Lav'  ished,  expended  or  given 
in  a  building.  very  freely. 

3  In  to  na'  tions,  sounds  of  the  9  Or'  phan,  a  child  who  has  lost 
voice  made  in  a  musical  manner.  both  father  and  mother. 

*  Pro  tec'  tion,  the  act  of  preserv-  10  Im  bibed',  drunk  in ;  swallow- 

ing  from  loss,  annoyance,  or  injury ,  ed ;  taken, 

shelter.  "  As'  pect,  appearance. 

6  A'  mi  a  ble,  worthy  of  love  ;  de  "  So  lem'  ni  ty,  gravity  ;  steady 

serving  of  affection  seriousness. 

6  In  di  ca'  tion,  mark ;  something  M  Scanned,  gone  over  and  exam  - 

which  point?  out.  ined  point  by-point. 


THE    CROP    OF    ACORNS.  115 

and  used  some  of  their  playthings?    Will  they  kiss  me, 
and  hold  out  their  hand  to  me,  as  you  do  ?" 

8.  The  work  of  death  was  lingering,  and  severe ;  but  he 
was  patient  and  lamb-like.  He  seemed  to  have  no  will  of 
his  own.  All  that  troubled  him  was,  to  see  the  grief  of  his 
par'ents. 

9.  <fOh,  sir,  my  good  father— siear  mother,  don't  cry, 
don't  cry.  It  is  all  light  overhead.  The  Saviour  will  save 
me."  And  so,  the  gentle  orphan,  whose  short  life  had 
comprised  so  much  of  sorrow  and  of  joy,  went  home  to 
the  Father  of  his  spirit. 

10.  Tenderly  loved,  and  truly  mourned  was  he  by  those, 
who  had  nobly  rescued  him  from  penury l  and  injustice ;  and 
in  his  brief  course  of  budding  loveliness  and  fervent  grat- 
itude, they  found  full  payment  for  their  liberality.  But  a 
rapturous 2  plaudit 3  awaits  them  hereafter,  from  lips  divine : 
"  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  have 
dorw  it  unto  me."  Mks.  Sigoubney. 

V. 

45.     THE    CROP    OF    ACORNS. 

THERE  came  a  man  in  days  of  old, 
To  hire  a  piece  of  land  for  gold, 
And  urged  his  suit  in  accents  meek, 
"  One  crop  alone  is  all  I  seek ; 
The  harvest  o'er,  my  claim  I  yield, 
And  to  its  lord  resign  the  field." 

2.   The  owner  some  misgivings  felt, 
And  coldly  with  the  stranger  dealt ; 
But  found  his  last  objection  fail, 
And  honeyed  eloquence 4  prevail ; 
So  took  the  proffered  price  in  hand, 
And,  for, "owe  crop"  leased  out  the  land. 

1  Pen'  ii  ry,  poverty ;  want.  *  El'  o  quence,  such  an  utterance 

3  Rapt'  ur  ous,  very  joyous.  of  one's  thoughts,  feelings,  or  desires, 

*  Plau'  dit,  a  mark  or  expression  as  awakens  a  perfect  sympathy,  or 

of  applause ;  praise  given.  corresponding  emotions  in  a  listener 


116  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

9.   The  wily  !  tenant  sneered  with  pride, 
And  sowed  the  spot  with  acorns  wide : 
At  first  like  tiny  shoots  they  grew, 
Then  broad  and  wide  their  branches  threw ; 
But  long  before  those  oaks  sublime, 
Aspiring  reached  their  forest  prime, 
The  cheated  landlord  moldering  lay, 
Forgotten,  with  his  kindred  clay. 

4.  O  ye,  whose  years,  unfolding  fair, 

Are  fresh  with  youth  and  free  from  care, 
Should  vice  or  indolence  desire, 
The  garden  of  your  souls  to  hire, 
No  parley2  hold — reject  the  suit, 
Nor  let  one  seed  the  soil  pollute.3 

5.  My  child,  the  first  approach  beware ; 
With  firmness  break  the  insidious4  snare 
Lest,  as  the  acorns  grew  and  throve 
Into  a  sun-excluding  grove, 

Thy  sins,  a  dark  6'ershadowing  tree, 
Shut  out  the  light  of  Heaven  from  thee. 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Sigourney 

VI. 
46.     AN    EASTERN    FABLE. 

ABDALLAH  sat  at  his  morning  meal,  when  there 
alighted  on  the  rim  of  his  goblet  a  little  fly.  It 
sipped  an  atom  of  sirup  and  was  gone.  But  it  came  next 
morning,  and  the  next,  and  the  next  again,  till  at  last  the 
scholar  noticed  it.  Not  quite  a  common  fly,  it  seemed  to 
know  that  it  was  beautiful,  and  it  soon  grew  very  bold. 

2.  And  lo !  a  great  wonder :  it  became  daily  larger  and 
yet  larger,  till  there  could  be  discerned,5  in  the  size,  as  of  a 

1  Wi'  ly,  crafty ;    deceitful ;   art-  *  Pol  lute',  to  soil ;  make  impure, 

ful ;  sly.  4  In  sid'  i  ous,  lying  in  wait ;  sly; 

a  Par'  ley,  a  talk  with  another ;  a  deceitful, 

conference,  or  a  hasty  and  informal  6  Dis  cerned',  discovered  ;  made 

treaty  between  enemies.  out  and  distinguished  by  the  eye. 


AN    EASTERN    FABLE  117 

locust,  the  appearance  of  a  man,  From  a  hand-breadth,  it 
reached  the  stature 1  of  a  cubit ; 2  and  still  so  winning  were 
its  ways,  that  it  found  more  and  more  favor  with  this  son 
of  infatuation.3  It  frisked  like  a  satyr,4  and  it  sang  like  a 
peri,5  and.  like  a  moth  of  the  evening  it  danced  on  the  ceil- 
ing, and,  like  the  king's  gift,  whithersoever  it  turned,  it 
prospered. 

3.  The  eyes  of  the  simple  one  were  blinded,  so  that  he 
could  not,  in  all  this,  perceive  the  subtlety6  of  an  evil 
genius.7  Therefore  the  lying  spirit  waxed  bolder  and  yet 
bolder,  and  whatsoever  his  soul  desired  of  dainty  meats,  he 
freely  took  ;  and  when  the  scholar  waxed  wroth,8  and  said, 
"This  is  my  daily  portion  from  the  table  of  the  mufti9 — 
there  is  not  enough  for  thee  and  me,"  the  dog-faced  deceivei 
played  some  pleasant  trick,  and  caused  the  silly  one  to 
smile  ;  until,  in  process  of  time,  the  scholar  perceived  that, 
as  his  guest  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  he  himself  waxed 
weaker  and  weaker. 

4.  Now,  also,  there  arose  frequent  strife  betwixt  the  demon 
and  his  dupe,10  and  at  last  the  youth  smote  the  fiend  so  sore 
that  he  departed  for  a  season.  And  when  he  was  g^ne. 
Abdallah  rejoiced,  and  said,  "  I  have  triumphed  over  mine 
enemy,  and  whatsoever  time  it  pleaseth  me,  I  shall  smite 
him  so  that  he  die.  Is  he  not  altogether  in  mine  own 
power?" 

5.  But   after  not  many  days,   the  tempter  came  back 

1  Stature,    (  stat'  y6r ),    tallness  ;  6  Subtlety,    (sut'  tl  t!),    slyness  : 

height  of  an  animal  body.  artfulness  ;  cunning. 

8  Cu'  bit,  the  measure  of  a  man's  7  Genius,   (je'  ne  us),   a  good  or 

arm  from  the  elbow  to  the  end  of  evil  spirit  or  demon,  who  was  sup- 

the  middle  finger.  posed,  in  ancient  times,  to  direct  and 

3  In  fat  u  a'  tion,  extreme  or  very  rule  a  man  through  life. 

great  folly.  8  Wroth,   (rath),   full   of  wrath  ; 

4  Sa  tyr,  a  fabulous  deity  or  mon-    very  angry. 

sxer  of  the  wood,  half  man  and  half  8  Muf  ti,   a  Mohammedan  high- 
goat,  noted  for  its  undue  merriment,  priest ;  a  Turkish  name  of  a  doctor 
6  Pe'  ri,  in  the  East,  a  spirit  sup-  of  the  law  of  the  Koran,  or  Moham. 
,  posed  to  be  shut  out  of  heaven,  for  medan  bible. 

some  fault,  till  it  is  made  pure  by  10  Dupe,  one  who  is  duped,  de 

pain  or  suffering.  ceived,  or  easily  misled 


118  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

again ;  and  this  time  he  was  arrayed  in  goodly  garments, 
and  he  brought  a  present  in  his  hand,  and  he  spake  of  the 
days  of  their  first  friendship,  and  he  looked  so  mild  and 
feeble,  that  his  smooth  words  wrought  upon  this  dove  with- 
out a  heart,  and  saying,  "  Is  he  not  a  httle^oji^?"  he  re- 
ceived him  again  into  his  chamber.   „.^— -""' 

6.  On  the  morrdw,  when  Abdallah  came .  not  into  the 
assembly  of  studious  youth,  the  mufti  said,  "  Wherefore 
tarriest  the  son  of  Abdul  ?  Perchance  he  sleepeth."  There- 
fore they  repaired  even  to  his  chamber ;  but  to  their  knock- 
ing he  made  no  answer.  Wherefore  the  mufti  opened  the 
door,  and,  lo !  there  lay  on  the  divan1  the  dead  body  of  his 
disciple. 

7.  His  visage  was  black  and  swollen,  and  on  his  throat 
was  the  pressure  of  a  finger  broader  than  the  palm  of  a 
mighty  man.  All  the  stuff,  the  gold,  and  the  changes  of 
raiment  belonging  to  the  hapless  one  were  gone,  and  in  the 
soft  earth  of  the  garden  were  seen  the  footsteps  of  a  giant. 
The  mufti  measured  one  of  the  prints,  and,  behold !  it  was 
six  cubits  long. 

8.  Reader,  canst  thou  expound  the  riddle  ?  Is  it  the 
bottle  or  the  betting-book?  Is  it  the  billiard-table  or  the 
theater  ?  Is  it  smol^ing  ?  Is  it  laziness  ?  Is  it  novel-read- 
ing? But  know  that  an  evil  habit  is  an  elf  constantly 
expanding.  It  may  come  in  at  the  keyhole,  but  it  will  soon 
grow  too  big  for  the  house.  Know,  also,  that  no  evil  habit 
can  take  the  life  of  your  soul,  unless  you  yourself  nourish 
it  and  cherish  it,  and,  by  feeding  it  with  your  own  vitality/ 
give  it  a  strength  greater  than  your  own. 

vn. 

47.     THE    OLD    OAKEN    BUCKET. 

HOW  dear  to  this  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood, 
When  fond  recollection  presents  them  to  view ! 
The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the  deep-tangled  wild  wood, 
And  every  loved  spot  which  my  infancy  knew ; 

J  Divan,  (dl  van'),  a  cushioned  seat  2  Vi  tal'  i  ty,  life ;  the  power  or 
placed  agrainst  the  wall  of  a  room.       means  of  maintaining  life 


THE  OLD  OAKEN  BUCKET. 


119 


The  wide-spreading  pond,  and  the  mill  which  stood  by  it, 
/      The  bridge  and  the  rock  where  the  cataract l  fell  $ 
The  cot  of  my  father,  the  dairy-house 2  nigh  it, 

And  e'en  the  rude  bucket  which  hung  in  the  well : 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket, 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  which  hung  in  the  well. 

2.  That  moss-covered  vessel  I  hail  as  a  treasure  ; 

For  often,  at  noon,  when  returned  from  the  field, 

1  Cat'  a  ract,  a  great  cascade  or    for  the  management  of  milk,  or  in 
waterfall.  which  milk,  butter,  and  cheese  ^re 

8  Dai'  ry-house.  a  houpe  set  apart    kept. 


120  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

I  found  it  the  source  of  an  ex'quisite  pleasure, 
The  purest  and  sweetest  that  nature  can  yield. 

How  ardent  I  seized  it,  with  hands  that  were  glowing! 
And  quick  to  the  white-pebbled  bottom  it  fell ; 

Then  soon,  with  the  emblem l  of  truth  overflowing, 
And  dripping  with  coolness,  it  rose  from  the  well : 

The  old  Oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket, 

The  moss-covered  bucket  arose  from  the  well. 

3,  How  sweet  from  the  green  mossy  brim  to  receive  it, 

As  poised  on  the  curb  it  inclined  to  my  lips ! 
Not  a  full  blushing  goblet2  could  tempt  me  to  leave  ii 

Though  filled  with  the  nectar3  that  Jupiter  sips. 
And  now,  far  removed  from  the  loved  situation. 

The  tear  of  regret  will  intrusively 4  swell, 
As  fancy  reverts  to  my  father's  plantation,5 

And  sighs  for  the  bucket  which  hangs  in  the  well : 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket, 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  which  hangs  in  the  well. 

Samuel  Woodwortb 


SECTION    IX. 
i. 

48.     DELAY. 

TO-MOEEOW,  morrow,  not  to-day  I 
'Tis  thus  the  idle  ever  say. 
To-morrow  I  will  strive  anew, 


Em'  t>ieza,  a  thing  thought  to  3  Nee'  tar,  the  drink  of  the  hea- 

resemble  some  other  thing  in  its  then  gods,  of  which  Jupiter  was  the 

lsading  qualities,  and  so  used  to  rep-  chief  or  highest ;  honey  ;  any  sweet 

resent  it.    Water  is  called  the  em-  drink. 

Mem  of  truth  because  of  its  clear-  4  Intrusively,  (In  trfi'  siv  li),  with- 

ness  and  purity.  out  invitation,  right,  or  wJcome. 

2  Gob'  let,  a  kind  of  cup  or  drink-  6  Plan  ta'  tion,  a  place  planted  ; 

ing  vessel  without  a  handle.  a  large  cultivated  farm. 


ONE    BY    ONE.  121 

To-morrow  I  will  seek  instruction, 
To-morrow  I  will  shun  seduction,1 
To-morrow  this  and  that  will  do. 

2.  And  wherefore  not  to-day  ?  to-morrow 
For  thee  will  also  be  too  narrow ; 

To  every  day  its  task  allot ! 2 
Whate'er  is  done,  is  done  forever, 
Thus  much  I  know ;  but  whatsoever 

May  hap  to-morrow  know  I  not. 

3.  On !  on  !  or  thou  wilt  be  retreating ; 
For  all  our  moments,  quickly  fleeting, 

Advance,  nor  backward  more  incline, 
What  we  possess  alone  is  ours, 
The  use  we  make  of  present  hours ; 

For  can  I  call  the  future  mine  ? 

4    And  every  day,  thus  vainly  fleeing, 
Is  in  the  volume  of  my  being 

A  page  unwritten,  blank  and  void. 
Men  write  on  its  unsullied3  pages 
Deeds  to  be  read  by  coming  ages ! 
Be  every  day  alike  employed ! 

Feom  the  German  of  Weisse. 

n. 

49.     ONE    BY    ONE. 

OKE  by  one  the  sands  are  flowing, 
One  by  one  the  moments  fall ; 
Some  are  coming,  some  are  going ; 
Do  not  strive  to  grasp  them  all. 

2.    One  by  one  thy  duties  wait  thee ; 

Let  thy  whole  strength  go  to  each : 
Let  no  future  dreams  elate 4  thee ; 

Learn  thou  first  what  these  can  teach. 


1  Se  due  tion,    act    of   leading  Un  sul' lied,  pure;  without  spot 

away   from    duty ;    that    which  is  or  stain, 

adapted  or  employed  to  lead  astray.  4  E  late',  to  make  glad  or  joyous ; 

3  Al  lot',  to  divide  or  distribute,  to  elevate  or  flush  with  success ;  to 

as  by  lot ;  to  give  or  appoint.  pufF  up :  to  make  proud. 


122  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  One  by  one  (bright  gifts  of  heaven) 

Joys  are  sent  thee  here  below : 
Take  them  readily  when  given, — 
Beady,  too,  to  let  them  go. 

4.  One  by  one  thy  griefs  shall  meet  thee ; 

Do  not  fear  an  armed  band : 
One  will  fade  as  others  greet  thee, — 
Shadows  passing  through  the  land. 

5.  Do  not  look  at  life's  long  sorrow ; 

See  how  small  each  moment's  pain ; 
God  will  help  thee  for  to-morrow ; 
Every  day  begin  again. 

6.  Every  hour  that  fleets  so  slowly, 

Has  its  task  to  do  or  bear ; 
Luminous *  the  crown,  and  holy, 
If  thou  set  each  gem  with  care. 

7.  Do  not  linger  with  regretting, 

Or  for  passing  hours  despond  ;2 
Nor,  thy  daily  toil  forgetting, 
Look  too  eagerly  beyond. 

8.  Hours  are  golden  links,  God's  token/ 

Beaching  heaven ;  but  one  by  one 
Take  them,  lest  the  chain  be  broken, 
Ere  thy  pilgrimage 4  be  done. 

m. 

50.    NOW,    TO-DAY 

1. 

A    RISE !  for  the  day  is  passing,  and  you  lie  dreaming'  on  ; 

Q.  Your  brothers  are  cased  in  armor,  and  forth  to  the  fight 

are  gone ! 
A  place  in  the  ranks  awaits  you ;  each  man  has  some  part  to  play; 
The  Past  and  the  Future  are  nothing  in  the  face  of  stern  to-day. 

1  Iiu'  min  otiSj  bright ;  emitting  *  Token,  (to'  kn),  something  Utr 

or  sending  out  light.  tended  to  represent  another  thing. 

*  De  spond'  to  be  cast  down  ;  to  *  Pil'  grim  age,  a  long  wearisome 

lose  courage ;  to  give  up,  journey. 


THE  HALF  IS  BETTER  THAN   THE   WHOLE,  123 

2. 

Arise  from  your  dreams  of  the  Future, — of  gaining  some  hard- 
fought  field, 
Of  storming  some  airy  fortress,  or  bidding  some  giant  yield  ; 
Your  Future  has  deeds  of  glory,  of  honor,  (God  grant  it  may!) 
But  your  arm  will  never  be  stronger,  or  needed  as  now, — lo-day. 

3. 

Arise !  if  the  Past  detain  you,  her  sunshine  and  storms  forget  j 
No  chains  so  unworthy  to  hold  you  as  those  of  a  vain  regret ; 
Sad  or  bright,  she  is  lifeless  ever;  cast  her  phantom '  arms  away, 
Nor  look  back,  save  to  learn  the  lesson  of  a  nobler  strife  to-day. 

4 

Arise  !  for  the  day  is  passing;  the  sound  that  you  scarcely  hear, 

Is  the  enemy  marching  to  battle !  Rise  !  Rise  !  for  the  foe  is  near! 

Stay  not  to  sharpen  your  weapons,  or  the  hour  will  strike  at  last, 

When,  from  dreams  of  a  coming  battle,  you  may  wake  to  find 

it  past ! 

Adelaide  A.  Procter 


SECTION  X. 
i. 

51.    THE    HALF    IS    BETTER    THAN    THE    WHOLE. 

THE  sun  was  pouring  its  meridian 2  rays  upon  the  Ara« 
bian  desert,  wThen  a  car'avan  halted  for  refreshment 
and  repose.  The  tents  were  arranged  for  shade,  the  camels 
were  unladen,  and  each  tired  Mussulman,3  reclining  upon 
the  sand,  enjoyed  his  favorite  luxury  of  the  pipe,  or  listened 
to  one  of  those  long,  dull  tales,  with  which  the  inhabitants 
of  the4  East,, are  wont5  to  amuse  each  other  in  their  jour- 
tieyings  through  the  desert. 

2.  Two  little  boys,  the  only  children  in  the  whole  coni- 

1  Phan'  torn,    shadowy;  having  one  \vho  believes  Mohammed  to  have 

only  an  apparent  existence.  been  a  prophet. 

8  Me  rid'  i  an,  mid-day.  4  The,  (the),  see  Rale  3.  p.  24. 

9  Mus'  sul  man,  a  Mohammedan,*  *  "Wont, (want), vised ;  aooustomod 


124  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER. 

pany,  alone  were  restless,  active,  and  impatient  of  restraint. 
As  they  were  not  allowed  to  smoke,  and  had  no  taste  for 
the  tedious1  stories  that  amused  their  elders,  they  wandered 
among  the  camels,  and  climbed  upon  their  backs  together, 
and,  at  last,  for  want  of  other  entertainment,  quarreled,  and 
then  separated,  to  find  each  his  own  amusement2  apart. 

3.  Selim,  the  younger,  resolving  heartily  never  to  play 
again  wifh  Ali,3  scampered  off  toward  a  cluster  of  low  rocks 
that,  at  a  short  distance,  emerged  from  the  plain  of  sand, 
and  formed  the  only  object  that  broke  the  uniformity  of 
the  prospect.  Having  reached  the  rocks,  he  had  nothing 
to  do  but  return,  and  endure  again  the  dullness  of  the  car- 
avan, and  the  provoking  temper  of  Ali.  His  spirit  sunk  at 
the  thought  of  the  odious 4  necessity,  when  turning  a  corner 
of  the  rocks,  that  were  rather  higher  than  himself,  he  came 
suddenly  on  a  prize  that  made  him  cry  out  for  joy. 

4.  Taking  root  in  a  fissure5  of  the  rock,  a  stunted6  date- 
tree  had  pushed  its  puny7  limbs  into  the  sunshine,  and 
bore  on  its  dwarfish 8  head  a  handful  of  over-ripened  fruit. 
A  small,  but  clear  spring  of  water  trickled  through  the 
crevice,9  and,  supplying  moisture  to  the  tree,  glistened  along 
the  thirsty  sands  for  a  moment,  and  then  disappeared. 

5.  A  fountain  of  fresh  water!  What  a  transporting10 
discovery!  For  weeks,  poor  Selim  had  tasted  no  drink 
except  rare  and  stinted  draughts12  from  the  heated  con- 
tents of  the  water-skins,  that  had  been  brought  on  the  cam- 
els' backs  from  Mohadin. 

6.  He  could  scarcely  believe  his  eyes.  He  looked 
anxiously  toward  the  car'avan,  fearing  that  he  might  have 
been  followed,  and  that  his  rich  prize  might  be  taken  from 

1Te'dious,  dull;  tiresome  from  6  Stunted,  stopped  in  its  growth, 

length  or  slowness.  7  Pu'  ny,  little  and  weak. 

2  A  muse'  ment,  that  which  af-  8  Dwarf  ish,  smaller  than  its  nat- 
fects  us  lightly  and  pleasantly  ;  pas-  ural  size. 

time  ;  sport.  9  Crev'  ice,  a  crack. 

3  Ali,  (a'  le>  10  Trans  port'  ing,  carried  beyond 

4  O'  di  ous,  hateful ;  disagreeable,    one's  self  for  joy. 

6  Fissure,  (fish'  or),  a  split,  or  nar-  "  Draught,  (draft),  that  which  is 
row  opening.  drawn  in  at  once  in  drinking. 


THE  HALF  IS  BETTER  THAN   THE  WHOLE. 


125 


him,  or  at  least  shared,  by  that  odious  brother.  But  no 
one  came  to  interrupt,  or  to  partake  of  his  happiness ; — the 
cool  water  and  the  luscious1  fruit  were  all  his  own. 


1  7.  For  a  moment,  the  fancy  of  Selim  reveled2  in  the 
anticipation3  of  the  delicious  draught,  and  of  the  rich 
repast  before  him,  and,  in  his  happiness,  he  found  that  he 

1  Luscious,  (lush'  us),  sweet ;  de-        3  An  tic  i  pa'tion,  expected  pleas- 
lightful.  ure  or  pain  felt  before  its  arrival  J 

3  Rev'  eled,  moved  playfully,  a  taking  beforehand. 


126  NATIONAL    THIRD    RKADER. 

had  forgiven  Ali.  His  pleasure  was  so  ex'quisite,1  that  be 
wanted  to  shout  it  to  the  rocks ;  and  even  the  fiercely-glar- 
ing sun,  he  thought,  might  sympathize  in  his  delight. 

8.  But  the  first  draught  was  scarcely  swallowed,  before 
Selim  began  to  find  that  something  was  wanting  to  com- 
plete his  enjoyment.  What  could  it  be,  whose  absence  was 
causing  the  refreshing  water  to  pall2  upon  his  appetite. 

9.  He  wondered  that  he  was  not  perfectly  happy  in  the 
sole  possession  of  such  treasures.  He  pondered,3  and  con- 
sidered in  vain.  But  his  untutored  heart  whispered  to  him 
the  truth.  He  paused.  He  sighed ;  then  ran,  like  an  ante- 
lope,4 over  the  hills  to  the  tent  where  his  brother  had  laid 
himself  down  to  sleep. 

10.  Back  the  two  brothers  hastened  to  the  rocks.  Selim 
enjoyed  the  surprise,  the  delight  of  Ali,  at  the  sight  of  the 
fountain  and  the  tree.  He  found  his  own  pleasure  doubled 
in  witnessing  that  of  his  brother.  The  water  seemed 
cooler,  the  fruit  had  a  higher  flavor,5  when  Ali  joined  his 
praises  of  both.     The  glare 6  of  the  sun  was  less  regarded. 

11.  They  talked,  and  laughed;  they  ate,  and  drank. 
Selim's  enjoyment  was  now  perfect ;  and  from  that  day  to 
the  end  of  his  life,  he  never  forgot,  that,  of  whatever  foun- 
tains of  pleasure  or  fruits  of  joy  we  may  find  on  our  pil- 
grimage through  the  world,  the  half  is  better — much  bet- 
ter— than  the  whole. 

n. 

52.    THE    BOY    WHO    KEPT    HIS    PURPOSE. 
PAKT  FIRST. 

"  "T  WOULD  not  be  so  mean,"  said  George  Ward  to  a 

J-  boy  who  stood  by  while  he  put  the  candy  he  had  just 

bought  into  his  pocket.     "You  have  no  right  to  call  me 

1  Exquisite,  (eks'  kwl  zit),  care-  deer     with     wreathed     or    ringed 

fully  selected  or  sought  out ;  hence,  horns. 

very  nice ;  very  great ;  giving  rare  6  Fla'  vor,  that   quality   of   any 

satisfaction,  thing  which   affects    the  smell   oi 

'  Pall,  lose  strength  or  taste.  taste  :  that  which  gives  to  any  thing 

Von'  dered,  thought.  a  very  pleasant  odor  or  taste. 

Jin  te  lope,  a  kind  of  goat  or  6  Glare,  (glar),  bright  light. 


THE  BOY   WHO  KEPT   HIS  PURPOSE.  127 

mean,"  replied  Beuben1  Porter,  "  because  I  don't  spend  my 
money  for  candy." 

2.  "  You  never  spend  it  for  any  thing,"  continued  George, 
tauntingly.2  It  was  true  :  Eeuben  did  not  spend  his  money. 
Do  you  suppose  it  was  because  he  loved  it  more  than  other 
boys  do  ? 

3.  Keuben  turned  slowly  away,  meditating3  upon  what 
had  occurred.  "  I  will  not  care  for  what  George  thinks," 
he  at  length  said  to  himself ;  "  I  have  four  dollars  now,  and 
when  I  have  sold  my  cabbages,  I  shall  have  another  dollar. 
I  shall  soon  have  enough/'  and  his  heart  bounded  joyfully, 
his  step  recovered  its  elasticity,4  and  his  pace  quickened,  as 
the  pleasant  thought  removed  the  sting  the  accusation 5  of 
meanness  had  inflicted 6  on  his  sensitive 7  spirit. 

4.  "  Enough  "  did  not  mean  the  same  with  Reuben  as  with 
grown  people.  It  had  a  limit.  He  hastened  cheerfully 
home,  or  to  the  place  he  called  home.  He  had  no  father 
or  mother  there,  but  kind  and  loving  friends  in  their  stead. 

5.  Mr.  Porter  had  died  two  years  before,  leaving  a  wife 
and  four  children,  without  property  to  sustain  them.  Reu- 
ben was  the  eldest,  and,  as  he  was  old  enough  to  assist  in  the 
labors  of  a  farm,  it  was  thought  best  he  should  leave  his 
mother.  Mr.  Johnson,  a  neighbor,  took  him  into  his  family, 
where  he  soon  became  a  favorite. 

6.  There  was  one  thing  about  the  boy,  however,  which 
good  Mrs.  Johnson  regarded  as  a  great  fault.  It  was  what 
she  called  "  a  spirit  of  hoarding."  She  said  she  never  gave 
him  an  orange,  or  an  apple,  that  he  did  not  carry  it  to  his 
room,  instead  of  eating  it.  Perhaps  his  sisters  at  home,  or 
dear  little  brother  Charles,  could  tell  what  became  of  them. 

1  Reuben,  (r5'  ben).  return  to  its  form  or  shape  when 

2  Tauntingly,  (tanf  Ing  li),  in  an  compressed  or  expanded. 
Insulting  manner.  6  Acr  cu  sa'  tion,  the  act  of  accus- 

3  Med  i  ta  ting,  dwelling  on  any  ing  or  charging  with  a  crime  ;  that 
thing  in  thought,;  turning  any  sub-  of  which  one  is  accused. 

ject  in  the  mind  ;  thinking.  e  In  flict'  ed,  bestowed,  or  given, 

4  E  las  tic'  i  ty,    in    this    place     or  struck. 

means  easiness  of  motion  ;  its  pro-        7  Sen'  si  tive,  that  which  quickly 
per  meaning  is,  ability  of  a  thing  to     feels. 


128  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

7.  Mrs.  Johnson  had  noticed,  too,  in  his  drawer,  a  box, 
which  was  quite  heavy  with  money.  She  did  not  believe 
he  had  bought  so  much  as  a  fish-hook  since  he  had  been  in 
their  family.  If  he  should  go  on  in  this  way,  he  will  grow 
up  to  be  a  miser. 

8.  Mr.  Johnson  smiled  at  his  wife's  earnestness,  and  re- 
marked, that,  wifh  such  an  example  of  generosity  as  Reuben 
had  constantly  before  him,  he  could  not  believe  the  child 
was  in  much  danger  from  the  fault  she  feared.  "  It  must 
be  remembered,"  he  said,  "  that  Reuben  has  his  own  way 
to  make  in  life.  He  must  early  learn  to  save,  or  he  will 
always  be  poor.  There  are  his  mother  and  sisters,  too,  who 
need  his  aid." 

m. 

53.     THE   BOY  WHO   KEPT  HIS  PURPOSE. 
PART  SECOND. 

IN  various  ways  Reuben  added  to  his  store.1  When  the 
snow  came  ho  made  nice  broad  paths  about  the  house, 
which  so  attracted  the  notice  of  a  neighbor,  that  she  asked 
if  he  might  be  allowed  to  make  paths  for  her.  He  rose 
early,  that  he  might  have  time  for  this  extra 2  work,  and 
was  well  paid  for  his  efforts.  The  box  grew  heavier  from 
week  to  week.     Reuben  had  almost  enough. 

2.  One  day  there  was  a  barrel  of  flour  left  at  Mrs.  Por- 
ter's. She  thought  there  must  be  some  mistake  about  it ; 
but  the  man  said  he  was  directed  at  the  store  to  take  it  to 
that  house. 

3.  Mrs  Porter  went  immediately  to  learn  about  it,  and 
what  was  her  surprise  on  finding  her  son  had  been  the 
purchaser.  How  could  he  pay  for  a  whole  barrel  of  flour? 
"  The  money,"  said  the  merchant,  "  he  brought  in  a  box. 
It  was  in  small  bits,  which  took  me  some  time  to  count ; 
but  there  was  enough." 

1  Store,  a  source  from  which  sup-  2  Extra,  (eks'  tra),  over  and  above ; 
plies  may  be  drawn  ;  fund  ;  any  beyond  what  is  due,  appointed,  or 
place  where  goods  are  sold.  expected. 


THE  BOY   WHO  KEPT  HIS   PURPOSE.  129 

4.  The  mother  called,  with  a  full  heart,  at  Mrs.  Johnson's, 
and  related  what  had  occurred.  Eeuben  wondered  why 
his  mother  should  cry  so.  He  thought  she  would  be 
happy.  He  was  sure  lie  was.  He  had  been  thinking  two 
years  of  that  barrel  of  flour,  and  now  he  felt  more  like 
laughing  than  crying. 

5.  Those  tears,  noble  boy,  are  not  tears  of  sorrow,  but  of 
fhe  deepest,  fullest  joy.  You  are  more  than  repaid  for 
your  self-denial.  You  have  persevered  in  your  determina- 
tion ;  you  have  resisted  every  temptation  to  deviate l  from 
the  course  which  you  marked  out  as  right.  You  have 
borne  meekly2  the  charge  of  meanness,  so  galling3  to  your 
generous  spirit,  and  now  you  rf  reive  your  reward.  You 
are  happy,  and  so  is  your  mot  _3r,  and  so  are  your  kind 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Johnson. 

6.  That  night  Mr.  Johnson  remarked  to  his  wife,  as  they 
sat  together  before  the  cheerful  fire,  that  he  had  some  idea 
of  keeping  the  little  miser  and  educating  him.  "A  boy 
who  could  form  such  a  purpose  and  keep  it,  will  in  all  prob- 
ability make  a  useful  man." 

7.  After-years  proved  the  correctness  of  this  conclusion. 
Heuben  is  now  a  man  of  intelligence  and  wealth.  He  is 
one  whom  the  world  delights  to  honor;  but  among  his 
pleasantest  memories,  I  doubt  not,  is  that  of  the  barrel  of 
flour  he  bought  for  his  beloved  mother. 

8.  "Filial  love  will  never  go  unrewarded."  The  youth4 
who  devotes  his  early  thoughts  and  plans  to  the  gratifica- 
tion and  happiness  of  his  parents,  will  grow  up  loving  all 
mankind,  and  people  will  return  this  love  and  friendship  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  render  him  happy,  successful,  and 
useful  in  life 

■  De'  vi  ate,  to  go  out  of  the  way.        8  Gall'  ing,  rubbing  so  as  to  cause 
3  Meek'  ly,    patiently  ;   without    soreness  ;  vexing ;  annoying, 
oomplaint.  *  Youth,  (y6th. 

6* 


130  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

IV. 

54,  ANECDOTE  OF  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT. 

FEEDEKICK  the  Great,  king  of  Prussia,  having  rung 
his  bell  one  day,  and  nobody  answering,  opened  the 
door  where  his  page1  was  usually  in  waiting,  and  found 
him  asleep  on  a  sofa. 

2.  He  was  going  to  awake  him,  when  he  perceived  the 
end  of  a  billet  or  letter  hanging  out  of  his  pocket.  Having 
the  curiosity  to  know  its  contents,  he  took  and  read  it,  and 
found  it  was  a  letter  from  his  mother,  thanking  him  for 
having  sent  her  a  part  of  his  wages  to  assist  her  in  her  dis- 
tress, and  concluding  with  beseeching  God  to  bless  him  for 
his  filial  attention  to  her  wants. 

3.  The  king  returned  softly  to  his  room,  took  a  purse  of 
ducats,2  and  slid  them  with  the  letter  into  the  page's  pocket. 
Returning  to  his  apartment,  he  rung  so  violently  that  the 
page  awoke,  opened  the  door,  and  entered. 

4.  "  You  have  slept  well,"  said  the  king.  The  page  made 
an  apology,  and,  in  his  embarrasment,3  happened  to  put  his 
hand  into  his  pocket,  and  felt  with  astonishment  the  purse. 
He  drew  it  out,  turned  pale,  and  looking  at  the  king,  burst 
into  tears,  without  being  able  to  speak  a  word. 

5.  "What  is  the  matter?"  asked  the  king;  "what  ails 
you  ?"  "  Ah,  sir,"  said  the  young  man,  throwing  himself  at 
his  feet,  "  somebody  has  wished  to  ruin  me.  I  know  not 
how  I  came  by  this  money  in  my  pocket." 

6.  "My  friend,"  said  Frederick,  "God  often  sends frus 
good  in  our  sleep.  Give  the  money  to  your  mother ;  salute 
her  in  my  name,  and  assure  her  that  I  shall  take  care  of 
her  and  you." 

7.  This  story  furnishes  an  excellent  instance  of  the  grat- 

1  Page,  a  youth  or  attendant  on  a  is  about  equal  to  an  American  dollar, 

wealthy  person  ;  a  serving-boy.  and  the   gold   ducat   of  twice   the 

3  Due'  at,  a  piece  of  money,  either  value, 
of  silver  or  gold,  of  several  coun-        8  Embarrassment,  a  state  of 

tries  in  Europe.     The  silver  ducat  confusion,  as  of  mind  or  manners. 


HUMANITY    REWARDED.  131 

itude  and  duty  which  children  owe  to  their  aged,  infirm,  or 
unfortunate  parents. 

8.  And,  if  the  children  of  such  parents  will  follow  the 
example  of  Frederick's  servant,  though  they  may  not  meet 
with  the  reward  that  was  conferred  on  him,  they  shall  be 
amply  recompensed1  by  the  pleasing  testimony  of  their 
own  minds,  and  by  that  God  who  approves,  as  he  has  com 
manded,  every  expression  of  filial  love. 

V. 

55      HUMANITY    REWARDED. 

JOSEPH  Second,  Emperor  of  Germany,  once  received 
a  petition2  in  favor  of  a  poor  and  superannuated3  offi- 
cer, with  a  family  of  ten  children,  who  was  reduced  to  the 
utmost  poverty. 

2.  After  making  inquiries  respecting  the  man,  and  satis- 
fying himself  of  his  worth,  the  Emperor  determined  to 
judge  of  his  necessities  by  personal  observation. 

3.  Accordingly,  he  went  alone  to  the  house  of  the  officer, 
whom  he  found  seated  at  table,  wifh  eleven  children  around 
him,  dining  upon  vegetables  of  his  own  planting. 

4.  The  Emperor,  who  was  disguised  as  a  private  citizen, 
after  some  general  conversation  with  the  officer,  said :  "  I 
heard  you  had  ten  children,  but  I  see  here  eleven." 

5.  "  This,"  replied  the  officer,  pointing  to  one,  "  is  a  poor 
orphan,  whom  I  found  at  my  door.  I  have  endeavored  to 
obtain  for  him  the  assistance  of  persons  who  could  better 
afford  to  provide  for  him,  but  have  not  been  able  to  suc- 
ceed ;  and  of  course  I  could  do  no  better  than  to  share  my 
little  portion  with  him." 

6.  The  Emperor,  admiring  the  generous  humanity4  of 
the  poor  man,  immediately  made  himself  known  to  him, 

1  Rec'  om  pensed,  rewarded  ;  re-  '  Su  per  an'  nu  a  ted,  grown  too 

paid ;    given   something   of    a  like  old  to  work, 

value  for  service,  loss,  etc.  *  Hu  man'  i  ty,  the  kind  feelings, 

'  Peti'tion,  a  paper  containing  dispositions,  and  sympathies  of  man; 

a  request.  kindness ;  fellow-feeling. 


132  NATIONAL  THIRD  HEADER. 

and  said,  "  I  desire  that  all  these  children  may  be  my  pen« 
sioners,1  and  that  you  will  continue  to  give  them  examples 
of  virtue  and  honor. 

7.  "  I  grant  you  one  hundred  florins 2  per  annum,  for  each, 
and  also,  an  addition  of  two  hundred  florins  to  your  pension. 
Go  to-morrow  to  my  treasurer,3  where  you  will  receive  the 
fcrst  quarter's  payment,  together  with  a  lieutenant's  com- 
mission for  your  eldest  son.  Henceforth  I  will  be  the  father 
of  all  the  family."  Emma  C.  Embury. 


VI. 

56.    THE    BASKET-MAKER. 

A  RICH  man,  whose  ignorance  and  pride  were  at  least 
equal  to  his  riches,  had  a  house  on  the  sea-side, 
where  he  spent  much  of  his  time  in  hunting  and  fishing. 
It  happened  that  a  poor,  but  honest  basket-maker,  owned 
a  small  hovel,  and  a  narrow  strip  of  marsh  land,  between 
his  mansion4  and  the  sea.  Of  the  flags  which  this  land 
produced,  the  poor  man  made  baskets,  and  other  articles, 
in  a  neat  and  peculiar  manner,  and  by  the  sale  of  these  he 
supported  himself  and  several  small  children. 

2.  The  rich  man,  after  trying  in  vain  to  induce5  the 
basket-maker  to  sell  his  marsh,6  at  last  was  so  incensed 7  at 
his  refusal,  that  he  set  fire  to  the  dwelling,  and  burnt  that 
and  all  the  rushes  flat  to  the  ground.  The  poor  man  com- 
plained to  the  king  of  the  country,  who  ordered  both  the 
gentleman  and  the  basket-maker  to  be  stript  naked  and  set 
ashore  on  a  savage  island  near  the  coast. 

3.  The  place  where  they  were  landed  was  a  marsh,  over- 

1  Pen'  sion  ers,  persons  who  re-        *  Man'  sion,  a  place  of  residence , 

ceive  money  from  others.  a  large  house. 

8  Flor'  in,  a  silver  coin  of  Flor-         6  In  duce',  to  lead  on  ;  to  prevail 

ence,  noted  for  Its  beauty.     It  varies  on ;  to  persuade, 
in  value  from  twenty-three  to  fifty-        6  Marsh,  a  piece  of  low  land,  often 

four  cents.  covered  with  water  ;  a  swamp. 

*  Treas'  ur  er,  an  officer  who  has        *  In  censed',    enkindled    or    in 

charge  of  money.  flamed  to  fierce  anger ;  enraged 


THE    BASKET-MAKER.  133 

grown  with  flags,  under  cover  of  which  the  gentleman  tried 
to  conceal  himself  from  the  savages,  as  well  as  from  his 
companion,  of  whose  company  he  was  ashamed.  But  the 
savages  had  seen  the  lights  of  the  vessels,  and,  setting  up 
a  dreadful  yell,  they  surrounded  the  spot,  and  discovered 
the  two  strangers,  whom  they  seemed  determined  to  dis- 
patch with  their  clubs. 

4.  Half  dead  with  fear  and  cold,  the  gentleman  fell  be- 
hind the  poor  sharer  of  his  fate,  and  was  willing  to  trust 
for  protection  to  one  whom,  a  minute  before,  he  thought  it 
a  disgrace  to  consider  as  a  companion.  The  basket-maker, 
who  was  accustomed  to  exposure,  and  whom  a  life  of  pain 
had  reconciled  to  death,  felt  no  alarm,  and  would  have 
made  no  effort  to  check  the  savages,  had  not  the  thought 
of  his  children  come  over  his  mind,  and  urged  him  to  save 
himself,  in  the  hope  of  again  seeing  them. 

5.  He  therefore  plucked  a  handful  of  rushes,  and,  making 
signs  to  the  savages  that  he  would  show  them  something, 
he  began  to  weave  a  kind  of  coronet,1  and,  when  it  was 
finished,  he  respectfully  approached  one  of  them,  and 
placed  it  on  his  head.  No  sooner  did  the  savages  behold 
this  new  ornament,2  than  they  threw  down  their  war-clubs, 
and  formed  a  dance  around  the  author  of  so  prized  a  favor. 

6.  The  poor  basket-maker  had  his  hands  full  of  employ- 
ment; and  the  savages,  seeing  one  quite  idle,  while  the 
other  was  so  busy  in  their  service,  took  up  their  clubs,  and 
began  to  beat  the  gentleman  most  unmercifully.  The 
basket-maker's  pity  was  moved,  and  he  arose,  and,  making 
signs  to  them  that  his  companion  was  ignorant  of  his  art, 
but  could  be  useful  in  gathering  flags  for  him,  they  allowed 
him  to  live,  but  considered  him  as  very  inferior  to  his  mas- 
ter, their  benefactor.3 

7.  Men,  women,  and  children,  from  all  corners  of  the 
island,  came  in  crowds  for  coronets ;  and,  setting  the  gen- 
tleman to  work  in  gathering  boughs  of  trees,  they  made  a 

1  Cor7  o  net,  an  inferior  crown.  3  Ben  e  fac'  tor,  one  who  confers 

2  Or'  na  ment,  a  thing  to  adorn  a  benefit  or  does  good ;  one  who 
or  give  beauty.  gives  for  public  or  private  use-  • 


134:  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER.       • 

fine  hut  to  lodge  the  basket-maker.  They  also  brought 
him  abundance  of  such  provisions  as  they  thought  he  would 
like,  taking  care  never  to  offer  the  imagined  servant  any 
thing,  till  his  master  had  done  eating. 

8.  Three  months'  reflection  on  his  altered  condition,  gave 
a  new  and  just  turn  to  our  gentleman's  thoughts  ;  and,  one 
night,  when  they  were  lying  awake,  he  said  to  the  basket- 
maker,  "  I  have  been  to  blame,  and  wanted  judgment  to 
distinguish  between  birth  and  riches,  which  are  accidental, 
and  true  merit,  which  alone  is  entitled  to  honor.  I  am 
ashamed  when  I  compare  my  malice 1  with  your  humanity, 
and,  if  ever  I  should  recover  my  rank  and  riches,  you  shall 
be  the  sharer  of  both." 

9.  He  performed  his  promise ;  for  the  king,  soon  after, 
sent  the  same  officer  who  had  landed  them,  with  presents 
to  the  savages,  and  ordered  him  to  bring  them  back  again. 
The  savages  were  very  unwilling  to  part  with  a  man  whom 
they  considered  next  to  their  chief,  but  they  did  not  dare 
to  oppose  the  wishes  of  the  powerful  king  who  claimed  him. 

10.  The  gentleman  kept  his  word  with  the  basket-maker ; 
and,  in  that  country,  it  continues  to  be  the  custom  to  this 
day  to  say,  when  they  see  a  gentleman  who  can  give  no 
better  reason  for  his  pride  than  that  he  was  born  to  do 
nothing,  "  Send  him  to  the  basket-maker  /" 

57.     WORK  PROCLAIMS   A  WORKMAN. 

A  CERTAIN  baron 2  had  an  only  son,  who  was  not  only 
a  comfort  to  his  father,  but  a  blessing  to  all  who  lived 
on  his  father's  land.  Once,  when  this  young  man  was 
away  from  home,  a  gentleman  called  to  see  his  father,  and 
using  the  name  of  God  irreverently,3  the  good  old  baron 
reproved 4  him. 

1  Mai'  ice,  thinking  or  acting  "  Ir  reV  er  ent  ly,  in  a  manner 
with  wicked  intentions.  that  does  not  show  a  due  regard  to 

2  Bar'  on,  a  nobleman  ;  in  Eng-  the  Supreme  Being ;  disrespectfully 
land,  a  nobleman  of  the  lowest  grade  *  Re  proved',  blamed  ;  found 
of  rank  in  the  House  of  Lords.  fault  with. 


WORK    PROCLAIMS    A    WORKMAN.  135 

2.  "Are  you  not  afraid,"  said  he,  "  of  offending  the  great 
Being  who  reigns  above,  by  thus  using  his  name  in  vain  ?" 
The  gentleman  said  he  neither  feared  nor  believed  in  a 
being  he  could  not  see. 

3.  The  next  morning  the  baron  showed  the  gentleman  a 
beautiful  painting  that  adorned  his  hall.  The  gentleman 
admired  the  picture  very  much,  and,  when  told  by  the 
baron  that  his  son  painted  it,  "  Your  son  is  an  excellent 
painter,"  said  he. 

4.  The  baron  then  took  his  visitor  into  the  garden,  and 
showed  him  many  beautiful  flowers,  arranged  in  the  most 
perfect  order.  "Who  has  the  direction  of  this  garden?" 
said  the  gentleman.  "  My  son,"  said  the  baron.  "  Indeed !" 
said  the  gentleman ;  "  I  begin  to  think  he  is  something  un- 
common." 

5.  The  baron  then  took  him  into  the  village,  and  showed 
him  a  small,  neat  cottage,  where  his  son  had  established  a 
school,  in  which  a  hundred  orphans  were  fed  and  taught  at 
his  expense.  "  What  a  happy  man  you  are,"  said  the  gen- 
tleman, "  to  have  so  good  a  son !" 

6.  "  How  do  you  know  that  I  have  so  good  a  son  ?"  re- 
plied the  baron.  "  Because  I  have  seen  his  works,"  said 
the  gentleman,  "  and  I  know  he  must  be  talented  and  good.'* 
"  But  you  have  never  seen  Mm"  said  the  baron.  "  I  have 
seen  what  he  has  done,  and  am  disposed  to  love  him,  with- 
out having  seen  him,"  said  the  gentleman. 

7.  "  Can  you  see  any  thing  from  that  window?"  said  the 
baron.  "  The  landscape  is  beautiful,"  said  the  gentleman  ; 
"the  golden  sun,  the  mighty  river,  the  vast  forest,  are 
ad'mirable.1  How  lovely,  and  pleasant,  and  cheerful,  every 
object  appears  !* 

8.  "  How  happens  it,"  said  the  baron,  "  that  you  could 
see  such  proof  of  my  son's  existence,  in  the  imperfect  work 
of  his  hands,  and  yet  you  can  see  no  proof  of  the  existence 
of  a  Creator,  in  the  wonders  and  beauties  which  are  now 


(     ■  Ad'  mi  ra  ble,  worthy  to  be  ad-    a    wonder   joined    with    agreeable 
mired  ;  having  qualities  to  awaken    feelings. 


136  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

before  you  ?  Let  me,  my  good  friend,  never  hear  you  say 
again  that  you  believe  not  in  the  existence  of  God,  unless 
you  would  have  me  believe  that  you  have  lost  the  use  of 
your  senses." 


SECTION   XI. 
i. 

58.     CHILDREN  IN  EXILE.1 

FAR  in  the  dark  old  forest  glades, 
Where  kalmias 2  bloom  around, 
They  had  their  place  of  youthful  sport, 

Their  childhood's  hunting-ground ; 
And  swinging  lightly  in  the  vines 

That  o'er  the  wigwam3  hung, 
The  golden  robins,  building  near, 
Above  their  dwelling  sung. 

2.  Each  morn  their  little  dusky  feet 

Sprang  down  the  sparkling  lea,4 
To  plunge  beneath  the  glowing  stream 

Beside  the  chestnut  tree ; 
And  when  the  hiding  squirrel's  nest5 

They  sought,  far  up  the  hills, 
They  bathed  their  reeking  foreheads  cool 

Among  the  mountain  rills. 

3.  They  saw  the  early  silver  moon 

Peep  through  her  wavy  bower, 

1  Two  Indian  boys  were  carried  shrub,  having  beautiful  white  oi 

\to  London,  not  long  ago,  for  exhibi-  pink  flowers ; — also  called  laurel,  ivy 

tion,  and  both  died  soon  after  their  bush,  calico-bush,  etc. 

arrival.     It  is  said  that  one  of  them,  3  Wig-warn,  (wig'  wfim),  an  Indian 

during  his  last  moments,  talked  of  hut  or  cabin. 

the  scenes  and  sports  of  his  distant  *  Lea,   (le),  a  meadow  or  grass 

home,  and  that  both  wished  to  be  land  ;  a  field, 

taken  back  to  their  native  woods.  6  Illustration,    see  the  Fronti* 

a  Kal'  mi  a,  a  kind  of  evergreen  piece  facing  the  title-page. 


THE    DAISY    AND    THE    LARK.  137 

And  in  lier  beams  they  chased  the  bat 

Around  his  leafy  tower ; 
And,  when  the  stars,  all  silently, 

Went  out  o'er  hill  and  plain, 
They  listened  low  to  merry  chimes 

Of  summer-evening  rain. 

L   These  haunts l  they  missed, — the  city  air 

No  healthful  music  brings, — 
They  longed  to  run  through  woodland  dells8 

"Where  Nature  ever  sings ; 
And,  drooping,  'mid  the  noise  and  glare, 
.  They  pined  for  brook  and  glen,3 
And,  dying,  still  looked  fondly  back, 

And  asked  for  home  again.  j.  t.  Fields. 


n. 

59.     THE    DAISY    AND    THE    LARK. 
PAET  JTKST. 

OUT  in  the  country,  close  by  the  road,  stands  a  hand-« 
some  house.  Before  it  there  is  a  garden  with  flowers, 
and  a  painted  railing ;  and  just  outside  the  railing,  among 
beautiful  green  grass,  grew  a  little  daisy. 

2.  The  sun  shone  upon  it  as  warmly  and  kindly  as  upon 
the  large,  splendid 4  flowers  in  the  garden ;  and  so  it  grew 
from  hour  to  hour,  till  one  morning  it  stood  fully  unfolded, 
with  its  small,  pure  white  petals5  in  a  ring  round  the  little 
yellow  sun  in  the  middle. 

3  The  daisy  thought  that  no  one  saw  it  there  among  the 
grass,  and  that  it  was  a  poor,  despised^  flower;  but  it  was 
very  contented,  turned  its  face  to  the  warm  sun,  looked  up 
to  it,  and  listened  to  the  lark  singing  high  in  the  air. 

*  Haunts,  (hants),  places  often  4  Splen'  did,  very  bright ;  showy, 
visited.  6  Petal,  (pet'  al),  one  of  the  inner 

*  Dell,  a  small,  retired  valley.  or  colored  leaves  of  a  flower. 

*  Glen,  a  retired  and  narrow  val-  6  De  spised',  looked  down  upon 
ley ;  a  narrow  space  between  hills.  as  mean  and  worthless  ;  slighted. 


138  NATIONAL    THIKU    READER. 

4.  Inside  the  railing  stood  a  great  many  stiff,  genteel* 
flowers :  the  less  fragrance  they  had,  the  prouder  they  were 
of  their  fine  dress.  The  peonies  blew  themselves  up,  in 
order  to  be  bigger  than  the  rose  ;  but  size  is  nothing !  The 
tulips  Lad  the  most  beautiful  colors,  as  they  very  well 
knew;  and,  therefore,  they  held  themselves  up  very 
straight,  that  people  might  have  a  good  sight  of  them. 

5.  They  never  looked  at  the  little  daisy  outside ;  but  the 
daisy  looked  all  the  more  at  them,  and  thought  within 
itself,  "How  rich  and  beautiful  they  are!  Certainly  the 
lark  will  come  down  and  pay  them  a  visit.  How  glad  I 
am  that  I  am  so  near  them !  for  I  shall  be  near  that  fine 
musician2  too." 

6.  Just  at  that  moment,  tee-wheet !  down  flew  the  lark, 
but  not  to  the  peonies  and  tulips ;  oh,  no !  down  into  the 
grass3  beside  the  poor  daisy,  which  was  so  astonished4  and 
so  delighted5  that  it  did  not  know  what  to  think. 

7.  The  bird6  danced  round  about  it,  and  sang,  "How 
soft  the  grass  is !  and  see,  what  a  lovely  little  flower,  with 
a  golden  heart,  and  a  silvery  white  dress !"  Nobody  can 
imagine  how  happy  the  little  daisy  was.  The  lark  kissed 
it  with  its  bill,  sang  to  it,  and  then  flew  up  to  the  blue  sky 
again. 

8.  It  was  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  daisy  could 
compose  itself ;  then  it  turned  round  to  see  what  the  garden 
flowers  were  doing :  "  surely,"  it  thought,  "  they  must  have 
been  delighted  to  see  a  little  flower  so  happy."  But  the 
tulips  stood  as  stiff  as  before,  and  their  lips  were  drawn 
together  in  a  pout,  and  they  were  red  in  the  face  ;  for,  the 
fact  was,  they  had  been  angry. 

9.  The  peonies  hung  their  heavy  heads  in  a  very  sulky 7 
manner,  and  it  was  as  well  they  could  not  speak ;  otherwise 
the  daisy  would  have  got  a  severe  scolding.  Just  then  a 
little  girl  came  into  the  garden  with  a  bright,  sharp  pair  of 

1  Gen  teel,  elegant  in  appearance.  4  As  ton'ished,  greatly  surprised 

9  Musician,    ( mu  zish'  an ),    one  6  De  light'  ed,  highly  pleased, 

skilled  in  music  ;  a  fine  singer.  c  Bird,  (bird),  see  Note  2,  p.  10. 

*  Grass,  (grass),  see  Note  3,  p.  15  '  Sulk'  y,  sullen ;  sour. 


THE    DAISY    AND    THE    LARK.  139 

scissors,  and  went  straight  to  the  tulips,  which  she  snipped1 
off  one  after  the  other. 

10.  "  Oh  dear,"  sighed  the  daisy,  "  it  is  all  over  wifti  them 
now."  The  girl  went  away  with  the  tulips ;  but  the  daisy 
was  glad  that  its  head  had  not  been  snipped  off,  and  very 
thankfully  folded  up  its  petals  as  the  sun  was  setting,  and 
fell  asleep,  and  dreamed  the  whole  night  about  the  sun  and 
the  lark. 

in. 

60.    THE    DAISY    AND    THE    LARK. 
PAKT  SECOND. 

NEXT  morning,  as  the  flower  was  stretching  out  all  its 
white  petals,  like  so  many  little  arms,  to  the  air  and 
light,  it  recognized 2  the  bird's  voice  ;  but  the  voice  was 
very  mournful  now.  The  poor  lark  had,  indeed,  good 
reason  for  singing  a  sad  song ;  for  it  had  been  taken  pris- 
oner, and  put  into  a  cage,  which  hung  beside  an  open  win- 
dow of  the  house. 

2.  The  little  daisy  wished  very  much  to  help  its  friend 
the  lark ;  but  how  was  it  to  manage  that  ?  Yes,  it  was  a 
difficult  affair.  The  flower  quite  forgot  how  beautiful  every 
thing  was  all  around  it,  and  how  warmly  the  sun  shone, 
and  could  think  of  nothing  but  the  captive  bird. 

3.  Two  little  boys  now  came  out  of  the  garden,  one  of 
them  with  a  knife  in  his  hand,  and  they  came  directly  to- 
wards the  daisy,  which  could  not  conceive 3  what  they  meant. 

4  "  Here  we  can  cut  out  a  beautiful  piece  of  turf  for  the 
lark,"  said  the  boy  with  the  knife,  and  immediately  began 
to  cut  out  a  square  turf,  with  the  daisy  exactly  in  the  mid- 
dle of  it. 

5.  "  Tear  the  flower  off,"  said  the  other  boy ;  and  then  the 
daisy  began  to  tremble  with  fear.  To  be  torn  off  was  to 
lose  its  life ;  and  it  was  so  anxious  to  live,  that  it  might 

1  Snipped,  (snlpt),  clipped  ;  cut        a  Rec'  og  nized,  knew  again, 
off  at  once.  8  Con  ceive',  think  ;  understand 


140  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

come  with  the  turf  into  the  cage  of  the  captive  lark! 
"  No,  let  it  stay,"  said  the  first  boy,  "  it  makes  the  turf  so 
pretty." 

6.  The  daisy  was  accordingly  spared,  and  arrived  with 
the  turf  in  the  cage  of  the  prisoner.  But  the  poor  bird 
lamented !  loudly  over  its  lost  freedom,  and  flapped  with  its 
wings  against  the  wires  of  the  cage ;  and  the  little  dais;y 
could  not  speak,  could  not  say  a  word  of  comfort,  willing 
as  it  was  to  do  so.     Thus  passed  the  whole  forenoon. 

7.  "There  is  no  water  here,"  said  the  imprisoned2  lark; 
"  they  have  all  gone,  and  have  forgotten  to  give  me  a  drop 
of  water  to  drink.  My  throat  is  dry  and  burning — ah !  I 
must  die."  Then  it  bored  its  bill  into  the  cool  turf  to  re- 
fresh itself  a  little,  and  its  eyes  fell  upon  the  daisy. 

8.  The  bird  nodded  to  the  flower,  kissed  it  wifli  its  bill, 
and  said,  "  Poor  little  flower,  you  will  grow  dry  and  withei 
away  here  too.  They  have  given  me  only  you,  and  your 
little  spot  of  green  grass,  instead  of  the  whole  world  that 
I  had  outside !  Ah !  you  only  jemind  me  how  much  I 
have  lost." 

9.  "  Oh,  if  I  could  only  comfort  him !"  thought  the  daisy. 
Evening  came,  but  still  no  one  brought  the  poor  bird  a 
drop  of  water.  It  stretched  out  its  pretty  wings,  and  shook 
them  in  a  quivering  way  that  was  painful  to  the  daisy  to 
see.  Its  song  was  now  a  mournful 3  chirp,  its  little  head 
bent  over  the  flower,  and  the  bird's  heart  broke  for  want 
and  longing.  The  flower  could  nob  now,  as  on  the  evening 
before,  fold  its  petals  together  and  sleep :  it  hung  sickly 
and  sad  toward  the  ground. 

10.  The  boys  did  not  come  till  next  morning,  and  when 
they  saw  the  bird  dead  they  cried,  and  shed  many  tears ; 

.and  they  dug  it  a  neat  little  grave,  which  they  decked*  with 
flowers.  They  had  put  the  dead  bird  into  a  pretty  red 
box,  for  they  were  resolved  to  give  it  a  fine  burial. 

11.  Poor  lark !  while  he  lived  and  sang  they  forgot  him, 

1  La  ment  ed,  mourned  ;  wailed.         s  Mourn'  ful,  full  of  sorrow  ;  sad, 
*  Imprisoned,  (im  prfz'  nd)f  put        4  Decked,  arrayed  very  finely ; 
Into  or  confined  in  a  prison.  adorned 


THE    ADOPTED    CHILD.  14J 

let  him  sit  in  his  cage  and  suffer  thirst,  and  now,  when  he 
was  dead,  they  gave  him  tears  and  ornaments.1 

12.  The  turf,  with  the  daisy  in  the  middle  of  it,  was 
thrown  out  into  the  dusty  road,  and  nobody  thought  of  the 
one  that  had  felt  most  pity  for  the  poor  bird,  and  had  been 
most  anxious  to  comfort  it.  Hans  Christian  Andeksen. 

IV. 

61.     THE    ADOPTED    CHILD. 

LADY,  Why  would'st  thou  leave  me,  O  gentle  child? 
Thy  home  on  the  mountain  is  bleak2  and  wild — 
A  straw-roofed  cabin  with  lowly  wall : 
Mine  is  a  fair  and  pillared3  hall, 
"Where  many  an  image  of  marble  gleams,4 
And  the  sunshine  of  pictures  for  ever  streams. 

Child,  Oh !  green  is  the  turf  where  my  brothers  play, 

Through  the  long  bright  hours  of  the  summer  day ; 

They  find  the  red  cup-moss  where  they  climb, 

And  they  chase  the  bee  o'er  the  scented  thyme,5 

And  the  rocks  where  the  heath-flower  blooms  they  know — 

Lady,  kind  lady !  O,  let  me  go. 

Lady.  Content  thee,  boy !  in  my  bower  to  dwell, 
Here  are  sweet  sounds  which  thou  lovest  well ; 
Flutes  on  the  air  in  the  stilly  noon, 
Harps  which  the  wandering  breezes  tune ; 
And  the  silvery  wood-note  of  many  a  bird, 
Whose  voice  was  ne'er  in  thy  mountains  heard. 

Child.  Oh !  my  mother  sings  at  the  twilight's 6  fall, 
A  song  of  the  hills  far  more  sweet  than  all ; 

1  Or'  na  ment,  that  which  enrich-        6  Thyme,  (tim),  a  plant  of  a  very 

es,  or  adds  grace  or  beauty.  sweet  smell.     The  garden  thyme  is 

3  Bleak,   swept  by  cold  winds  ;  a  sweet-scented,  warm,  and  pungent 

cheerless.  or  biting  plant,  used  to  give  a  relish 

3  Fil'  lared,  supported  by  pillars,  to  seasoning,  and  soups. 

or  ornamental  posts.  6  Twi  light,  the  faint  light  seen 

4  Gleam,  to  shine ;  to  cast  light    before  the  rising  and  after  the  set- 
faintly  but  distinctly.  ting  of  the  sun. 


142  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

She  sings  it  under  our  own  green  tree, 
To  the  babe  half-slumbering  on  her  knee : 
I  dreamt  last  night  of  that  music  low — 
Lady,  kind  lady !  O,  let  me  go. 

Lady.  Thy  mother  is  gone1  from  her  cares2  to  rest; 
She  hath  taken  the  babe  on  her  quiet  breast ; 
Thou  would' st  meet  her  footstep,  my  boy,  no  more* 
Nor  hear  her  song  at  the  cabin  door. 
Come  thou  with  me  to  the  vineyards3  nigh, 
And  we'll  pluck  the  grapes  of  the  richest  dye. 

Child.  Is  my  mother  gone  from  her  home  away  ?— 

But  I  know  that  my  brothers  are  there  at  play — 

I  know  they  are  gathering  the  foxglove's4  bell, 

Or  the  long  fern  leaves  by  the  sparkling  well ; 

Or  they  launch 5  their  boats  where  the  bright  streams  flow — 

Lady,  kind  lady !  O,  let  me  go. 

Lady.  Fair  child,  thy  brothers  are  wanderers  now ; 
They  sport  no  more  on  the  mountains  brow ; 
They  have  left  the  fern  by  tho.  spring's  green  side, 
And  the  streams  where  the  fairy 6  barks  were  tied. 
Be  thou  at  peace  in  thy  brighter  lot, 
For  thy  cabin  home  is  a  lonely  spot. 

Gliild.  Are  they  gone,  all  gone  from  the  sunny  hill  ? — 

But  the  bird  and  the  blue-fly  rove  o'er  it  still ; 

And  the  red-deer  bound  in  their  gladness  free, 

And  the  heath7  is  bent  by  the  singing-bee, 

And  the  waters  leap,  and  the  fresh  winds  blow — 

Lady,  kind  lady !  O,  let  me  go.  Mrs.  Felicia  Heman* 

1  Gone,  (gon),  see  Note  2,  p.  16.  6  Fairy,  (far'  i),  relating  or  belong. 

3  Care,  (kar),  see  Note  2,  p.  15.  ing  to  fairies.    Fairies  were  not  real 
8  Vineyard,  (v!nr  yard),  a  yard  for    but  imaginary  spirits  once  thought 

grape-vines;   a  field  of  vines  pro-  to  be  able  to  take  a  human  form, 

ducing  grapes.  either  male  or  female,  and  to  med 

4  Foxglove,  (foks'  gluv),  a  hand-  die  for  good  or  evil  in  the  affairs  of 
Borne  flowering  plant  whose  leaves  mankind 

are  used  as  a  medicine.  7  Heath,  a    plant    which    bears 

6  Launch,   (lanch),    to    cause   to  beautiful  flowers.      Its  lea  $s  are 

move  or  slide  from  the  land  into  the  small,  and  continue  green  all  the 

water  year. 


THE    MOCKING-BIRD.  143 


SECTION   XII. 
1. 

62.     THE  MOCKING-BIRD. 

A     MOCKING-BIKD  was  lie,  in  a  bushy,  blooming  tree 
«i-A_     Imbosomed  by  the  foliage *  and  flower. 

And  there  he  sat  and  sang,  till  all  around  him  rang, 
"With  sounds  from  out  the  merry  mimic's 2  bower. 

2.  The  little  satirist 3  piped,  chattered,  shrieked,  and  hissed ; 

He  then  would  moan,  and  whistle,  quack,  and  caw ; 
Then,  carol,  drawl,  and  croak,  as  if  he'd  pass  a  joke 
On  every  other  winged  one  he  saw. 

3.  Together  he  would  catch  a  gay  and  plaintive 4  snatch,6 

And  mingle  notes  of  half  the  feathered  throng  ;6 
For  well  the  mocker  knew,  of  every  thing  that  flew, 
To  imitate  the  manner  and  the  song. 

4.  The  other  birds  drew  near,  and  paused  awhile  to  hear 

How  well  he  gave  their  voices  and  their  airs. 
And  some  became  amused ;  while  some,  disturbed,  refused 
To  own  the  sounds  that  others  said  were  theirs. 

5.  The  sensitive  were  shocked,  to  find  their  honors  mocked 

By  one  so  pert 7  and  voluble 8  as  he  ; 
They  knew  not  if  'twas  done  in  earnest  or  in  fun ; 
And  fluttered  off  in  silence  from  the  tree. 

C.  The  silhest  grew  vain,  to  think  a  song  or  strain 
Of  theirs,  however  weak,  or  loud,  or  hoarse, 
Was  worthy  to  be  heard  repeated  by  the  bird ; 
For  of  his  wit  they  could  not  feel  the  force. 

1  Fo'  li  age,  leaves ;  a  cluster  of  5  Snatch,  a  hasty  catch  or  seiz- 

leaves  and  branches.  ing ;    a  small    piece,  fragment,  or 

3  Mim'  ic,  one  who  does  as  an-  quantity. 

other  does.  6  Throng,  company. 

3  Sat'irist,  one  who  judges  se-  7  Pert,  smart ;  saucy. 

verely  of  another,  or  ridicules  him.  8  Vol'  u  ble,    talking    or    acting 

4  Plaint'  ive,  serious  ;  sad.  quickly  and  easily. 


144  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

7.  The  charitable  said,  "  Poor  fellow !  if  his  head 

Is  turned,  or  cracked,  or  has  no  talent  left ; 
But  feels  the  want  of  powers,  and  plumes1  itself  from  our^ 
Why,  we  shall  not  be  losers  by  the  theft." 

8.  The  haughty  said,  "  He  thus,  it  seems,  would  mimic  us, 

And  steal  our  songs,  to  pass  them  for  his  own ! 
But  if  he  only  quotes 2  in  honor  of  our  notes, 
We  then  were  quite  as  honored,  let  alone." 

9.  The  wisest  said,  "  If  foe  or  friend,  we  still  may  know, 

By  him,  wherein  our  greatest  failing  lies : 
So,  let  us  not  be  moved,  since  first  to  be  improved 
By  every  thing,  becomes  the  truly  wise." 

Hannah  V.  Goulix 

n. 

63.    THE  MOCKING-BIRD. 

f  fl  H  E  mocking-bird  is  one  of  the 3  most  wonderful  of  all 
JL    the  feathered  tribe.     His  plumage  has  nothing  grand 
nor  brilliant  in  it ;  but  his  figure  is  light  and  graceful,  well 
formed,  and  even  handsome. 

2.  He  is  remarkable  for  the  ease  and  grace  of  his  move- 
ments. He  displays  great  skill  in  learning  lessons  in  sweet 
music,  from  every  creature  that  he  hears.  But  he  is  not 
always  judicious  in  selecting  his  songs. 

3.  He  can  imitate  every  bird  that  he  hears,  but  he  seems 
to  be  as  well  pleased  wifh  crowing  like  a  cock,  or  grunting 
like  a  pig,  as  with  singing  the  sweet  notes  of  the  canary- 
bird  or  the  nightingale. 

4.  He  whistles,  and  the  dog  thinks  his  master  is  calling, 
and  runs  to  him.  He  clucks  like  a  hen,  and  the  little  chick- 
ens run  to  their  mother,  supposing  it  to  be  the  old  hen 
calling  them. 

5.  He  barks  like  a  dog.     He  mews  like  a  cat.     He  wails 

1  Plume,  to  pick  and  adjust  the        9  Quotes,  (kwots),  takes  from  the 
plumes  or  feathers ;    to  pride ;  to    words  of  another, 
value  ;  to  boast  3  The,  (thu),  see  Rule  3,  p.  24. 


BIRDS    IN    SUMMER.  145 

like  a  puppy.  He  makes  a  sound  like  the  creaking  of  a 
wheelbarrow  or  the  grating  of  a  saw.  He  imitates  the 
warbling  of  the  robin  and  the  canary,  the  glad  notes  of  the 
lark,  and  the  wild  songs  of  the  wood-thrush,  in  a  manner 
so  superior  to  them,  that,  mortified  and  astonished,  they 
fly  from  his  presence,  or  listen  in  silence,  as  he  continues  to 
triumph  over  them. 

6.  His  motions  are  easy,  rapid,  and  graceful.  He  looks 
as  if  he  understood  every  thing  that  he  does,  and  why  he 
does  it.  In  short,  the  mocking-bird  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  of  all  the  feathered  tribes,  not  because  he  is 
a  handsome  bird,  wifh  bright  feathers  and  a  gay  dress,  but 
because  of  his  skill  in  imitating  every  sound  that  he  hears. 

7.  And  now,  my  young  readers,  I  wish  you  to  think  how 
interesting  a  boy  or  girl  is,  who,  though  not  very  hand- 
some or  gayly  dressed,  can  do  whatever  he  or  she  is  taught 
to  do,  in  a  pleasing  manner. 

8.  The  peacock  has  very  beautiful  feathers,  and  so,  also, 
have  very  many  other  birds.  But  the  mocking-bird,  though 
his  feathers  are  not  so  gay,  is  prized  more  highly  than  all 
other  birds,  because  his  musical  powers  surpass  them  alL 

ni. 

64.     BIRDS    IN    SUMMER. 

HOW  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Flitting  about  in  each  leafy  tree  : 
In  the  leafy  trees,  so  broad  and  tall, 
Like  a  green  and  beautiful  palace  hall, 
With  its  airy  chambers,  light  and  boon,1 
That  open  to  sun  and  stars  and  moon, 
That  open  unto  the  bright  blue  sky, 
And  the  frolicsome  winds  as  they  wander  by ! 

2.   They  have  left  their  nests  in  the  forest  bough, 
Those  homes  of  delight  they  need  not  now ; 
And  the  young  and  the  old  they  wander  out, 
And  traverse 2  their  green  world  round  about ; 


Boon,  gay  ;  merry.  a  Trav'  erse,  wander  over. 


146  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

And  hark !  at  the  top  of  this  leafy  hall, 

How  one  to  the  other  they  lovingly  call : 

"  Come  up,  come  up !"  they  seem  to  say, 

"  Where  the  topmost  twigs  in  the  breezes  sway  V3 


Come  up,  come  up !  for  the  world  is  fair, 
"Where  the  merry  leaves  dance  in  the  summer  air !' 
And  the  birds  below  give  back  the  cry, 
"  We  come,  we  come,  to  the  branches  high  !" 
How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Flitting  about  in  a  leafy  tree ; 
And  away  through  the  air  what  joy  to  go, 
.And  to  look  on  the  green  bright  earth  below! 


£1RDS    OF    AUSTRALIA.  147 

4     How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Skimming  about  on  the  breezy  sea, 
Cresting l  the  billows  like  silvery  foam, 
And  then  wheeling  away  to  its  cliff-built  home ! 
What  joy  it  must  be,  to  sail,  upborne 
By  a  strong  free  wing,  through  the  rosy  morn, 
To  meet  the  young  sun  face  to  face, 
And  pierce  like  a  shaft 2  the  boundless  space ! 

5.  How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Wherever  it  listeth,  there  to  flee ; 

To  go  when  a  joyful  fancy  calls, 
Dashing  adown  'mong  the  waterfalls , 
Then  wheeling  about  with  its  mates  at  play, 
Above  and  below,  and  among  the  spray, 
Hither  and  thither,  with  screams  as  wild 
As  the  laughing  mirth  of  a  rosy  child ! 

6.  What  a  joy  it  must  be,  like  a  living  breeze, 
To  flutter  about  'mong  the  flowering  trees ; 
Lightly  to  soar,  and  to  see  beneath 

The  wastes  of  the  blossoming  purple  heath, 
And  the  yellow  furze,  like  fields  of  gold, 
That  gladden  some  fairy  region  old ! 
On  mountain  tops,  on  the  billowy  sea, 
On  the  leafy  stems  of  the  forest  tree, 
How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be ! 

Maby  Howitt. 

IV. 

65.     BIRDS    OF    AUSTRALIA. 

PART  FIRST. 

THE  forests  of  Australia  are  very  monotonous ; 3  but  the 
birds  do  their  best  to  give  life  and  variety  to  them. 
Oh !  there  are  hundreds  of  different  kinds  of  birds,  and 


i  Crest'  ing,  standing  or  resting        2  Shaft,  (shaft),  an  arrow, 
on  the  top ;  serving  as  a  crest  or  or-        3  Mo  not'  o  nous,  presenting   r* 
natnent  for.  tiresome  sameness. 


148  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

many  of  them  very  beautiful.  Parrots,  blue,  green,  grays 
and  red;  rich-coated  little  paroquets;1  cockatoos,  white 
and  gray  cranes,  pelicans,  turkeys,  wild  ducks  and  geese, 
black  swans,  and  emus, — these  are  some  of  the  feathered 
citizens  of  the  Australian  woods. 

2.  What  I  like  in  the  birds  is,  that  except  the  morepork, 
a  small  owl,  the  curlews,  and  a  few  others,  they  all  come 
i  ut  in  the  day-time,  wnile,  oddly  enough,  nearly  all  the 
animals  of  Australia  are  nocturnal.2  Besides  the  kanga- 
roos and  kangaroo  rats,  nearly  all  the  animals  only  come 
out  in  the  night. 

3.  But  of  all  the  birds  the  most  amusing  are  the  piping 
crow,  the  leatherhead,  and  the  laughing  jackass.  These 
three  birds  are  the  universal3  companions  of  travelers. 
Everywhere  they  greet  you,  and  everywhere  are  most 
amusing. 

4.  There  is  a  piping  crow  and  a  laughing  jackass  in  the 
Zoological 4  Gardens,  in  London ;  and  I  used  to  hear  the 
latter  ha,  ha,  ha-ing !  when  I  crossed  the  Regent's  Park. 
But  it  is  only  in  the  Australian  woods  that  one  hears  them 
in  perfection.  There  they  are  jolly,  and  full  of  fun.  There 
you  see  their  antics,5  and  hear  their  merry,  quaint 6  voices, 
in  all  their  fullness  and  variety.  These  birds  awake  you  at 
the  earliest  peep  of  day,  and  by  the  time  the  sun  rises 
there  is  a  general  chorus 7  of  them  all  around  you. 

5.  The  piping  crows,  or,  as  they  will  call  them  here, 
the  whistling  magpies — though  to  my  eye  they  have  noth- 
ing of  the  magpie  but  their  pied8  feathers  about  them — 
whistle  away  like  a  lot  of  school-boys,  only  with  much 
deeper  and  more  musical  tones.  Their  warbling  is  the 
oddest  thing  in  the  world ;  part  of  it  so  rich,  so  mellow,  so 

1  Paroquets,   (par'  o  kets),   Email  Gardens  are  gardens  where  many 

kind  of  parrots.  kinds  of  living  creatures  are  kept. 

3  Noc  tur  nal,  having  a  habit  of        6  An'  tics,  funny  tricks, 
seeking  food  or  being  active  at  night.         8  Quaint,    odd    or    uncommon  ; 

8  Universal,   (yhy  ni  vers'  al),   af-  queer  and  laughable,  but  not  foolish, 

fecting  the  whole  ;  general.  7  Cho'  rus,  union  of  voices. 

4  Zo^  o  log'  ic  al,  belonging  to  the  8  Pied,  marked  wife  different 
life    of   animals.      The    Zoological  colors;  spotted. 


BIRDS    OF    AUSTRALIA.  149 

melodious ; l  and  then  again  such  an  outbreak  of  croaks,  and 
screeches,  and  croivish  noises !  But  they  seem  delighted 
with  their  own  music,  and  do  not  sing,  like  our  birds,  only 
while  the  hen-bird  is  sitting,  but  all  through  the  long  sum- 
mer, and,  as  I  am  told,  through  the  whole  year. 

6.  There  are  thousands  of  them  all  over  the  colony,2  and 
their  black  and  white  colors  give  a  liveliness  to  the  dim 
woods.  They  have  none  of  the  tail-flirting  motions  and 
jaunty3  ways  of  the  magpie,  but  are  about  the  size,  and 
much  the  same  shape,  as  our  wood-pigeons.  They  have  a 
sober  and  somewhat  heavy  flight ;  but  I  am  told  that  they 
have  many  odd  ways  when  tamed  and  left  to  run  about 
near  a  house. 

7.  One  gentleman  told  us  that  one  that  he  kept,  used  to 
amuse  itself  by  offering  to  the  cat  a  piece  of  the  meat  given 
to  it,  and  when  the  cat  attempted  to  take  it,  pulling  it  away 
again,  with  evidence  of  vast  delight.  It  would  tease  the 
cat  thus  for  hours,  but  always  ending  by  generously  giving 
it  the  meat  at  last. 

8.  The  leatherhead  is  a  very  odd  bird.  It  is  as  large  as 
a  fieldfare,4  with  ash-colored  back  and  whitish  stomach ;  but 
the  singularity  of  it  lies  in  the  head,  which  is  destitute  of 
feathers,  and  covered  with  a  brown  skin,  resembling  leather 
— whence  its  name — drawn  tight  on  its  skull.  As  you  see 
it  sitting,  its  head  and  beak  look  like  a  brown  pointed  stick, 
and  it  opens  its  beak  wide,  and  makes  the  most  odd  gest- 
ures, when  it  utters  its  various  strange  notes. 

9.  It  is  evidently  a  bird  of  imitative  powers,  and  the 
variety  of  its  notes  is  endless.  Near  Kilmore  you  hear  it 
continually  crying,  "Kilmore!  Kilmore!"  a  word  that  it 
must  have  picked  up  there  from  constantly  hearing  it.    You 

1  Me  lo'  di  cms,  agreeable  to  the  3  Jaunty,  (janUl),  airy;  showy; 

ear  by  a  succession  of  sweet  sounds ;  fluttering, 

musical  4  Fieldfare,    (feld'  far),    a   smal) 

3  Col'  o  ny,  a  company  of  people  bird,  of  the  thrush  family,  the  head 

that  remove  to  a  distant  country,  ash  colored,  the  body  chestnut,  and 

though  stUl  living  under  the  laws  the  tail  black.     It  passes  the  sum- 

or  control  of  their  native  land  ;  the  mer  in   the   north  of  Europe,  but 

country  thus  occupied :  a  settlement,  visits  Great  Britain  in  winter. 


150  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

never  hear  the  leatherhead  say  "  Kilmore  "  anjwhere  else. 
At  Spring  Creek,  at  the  Ovens,  there  was  one  that  was  con* 
stantly  crying,  "Quite  well!  quite  well)"  It  said  this  as 
distinctly  as  you  could  do,  and  another  answered,  "  Quite ! 
quite !"  One  day  we  heard  one  there  trying  to  say,  "  Quite 
correct !"  but  it  did  it  with  difficulty  :  "  Quite  cor — cor— 
quite  correc —  quite  correct !" 

10.  These  words  and  notes  it  utters  in  a  soft,  shrill  voice, 
like  that  of  a  child  calling  from  a  distance ;  but  it  has  a 
number  of  notes  that  are  much  harder  and  odder,  and  that 
seem  to  come  out  of  an  instrument l  that  moves  with  some 
difficulty.  Yet  at  the  same  time  these  notes  are  very  jo- 
vial : 2  "  By  tockede  rock,  ick  de  dock,  rytick  de  rock  de 
rock."  I  think  these  birds  must  speak  the  native  language, 
they  talk  away  in  so  odd  and  grotesque 3  a  style* 

11.  His  performances  are  always  in  the  jolly  find  comic 4 
style.  Occasionally  both  he  and  the  piping  crow  bark  like 
dogs,  to  their  own  great  delight ;  and  the  laughing  jack- 
asses look  out  and  laugh  at  them  altogether  in  the  mosi 
hearty  "  Ha,  ha,  ho,  hoo,  hoo,  hoo !"  and  with  a  vast  deal  of 
chuckling  and  giggling  in  a  lower  tone  amongst  themselves. 

V. 

66.    BIRDS    OF    AUSTRALIA. 

PART  SECOND. 

I  HAVE  heard  a  shepherd,  who,  on  first  going  into  the 
bush,5  was  confounded  by  the  sudden  wild  outburst  of 
the  laughing  jackasses,  and  ran  to  the  station  for  his  life, 
declaring  that  the  natives  were  in  fall  chase  after  him, 
and  had  been  hooting  and  laughing  behind  him,  in  the 
wildest  and  most  frightful  manner,  all  the  way.     These  are 

1  Instrument,  (In' strfl  ment),  that  "  Grotesque,  (gib  tesk'),  like  the 

by  which  work  is  performed,  or  any  figures  found  in  grottoes  or  caves  ; 

thing  is  done  ;  a  tool ;  something  wildly  formed  ;  droll ;  laughable, 

contrived  or  made  by  which  musical  *  Com'  ic,  raising  mirth  ;   fitted 

sounds  are  produced.  to  cause  merriment  or  laughter. 

•  Jo'  vi  al,  gay  ;  merry ;  joyous.  6  Bush,  a  thicket  oi  wood. 


BIRDS    OF    AUSTRALIA.  151 

pre-eminently1  the  merry  birds  of  the  Australian  bush, 
and  just  such  as  in  fairy  tales  you  hear  of  as  talking,  and 
some  .privileged  person  understanding  them. 

2.  There  are  other  magpies,  or  crows ;  for  they  are  more 
like  the  latter.  There  is  the  gray  magpie,  which,  they  say, 
learns  to  talk  when  tamed ;  and  there  is  the  black  magpie, 
with  some  white  on  its  wings.  These  birds  haunt  together 
like  rooks,  and  make  the  most  dismal  wailing,  something 
like  our  starlings.  They  build,  also,  the  oddest  nests, — 
exactly  like  black  hats  with  the  brims  cut  off.  These  they 
balance,  in  some  extraordinary  way,  on  the  boughs  of  the 
loftiest  trees.  They  are  made  of  mud,  and  stand  erect  on 
the  boughs,  for  all  the  world  like  hat-crowns. 

3.  Besides  these,  there  are  the  carrion2  crows.  These 
birds  are  my  aversion.3  They  resemble  our  carrion  crows 
in  appearance,  but  they  have  a  cry  just  like  a  spoiled  child, 
"Ha,  ha,  ha!"  ending  in  a  most  pathetic4  and  dol'orous5 
long-drawn  "  ho !" — "  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ho !"  You  would  think 
them  the  most  injured  of  individuals.  Never  was  any  thing 
so  mock-heroically 6  pleading  and  complaining  as  their  cry. 
"We  often  could  not  refrain7  from  laughing  at  the  sound  of  it. 

4  Yet  they  are  by  no  means  sentimental 8  creatures  :  on 
the  contrary,  they  are  amongst  the  most  cruel  and  mis'- 
chievous  birds  in  the  colony.  They  pluck  out  the  eyes  of 
young  lambs  the  moment  they  are  born,  and  are  detested9 
by  the  squatters.10  Neither  are  they  very  nice  in  their  food. 
They  are  the  real  scavengers  H — the  vultures — of  Australia, 

1  Pre  em'  i  nent  ly,    above    all  able  way,  the  character,  manner,  or 

others ;  surpassing  others.  actions  of  heroes. 

a  Car'  ri  on,  feeding  on  carrion  or        7  Re  frain'     to    curb  ;    forbear 

worthless  flesh.  hold  back. 

3  Aversion,  (a  ve'r  shun),  a  fixed        8  Sen  ti  merit'  al,  having  much 
Ox  constant  dislike ;  the  object  of  feeling ,  affectedly  tender, 
constant  dislike.  8  De  test'  ed,  greatly  hated. 

4  Pa  thet'  ic,  moving  the  tender        J0  Squat'  ters,  persons  who  oc 
emotions ,  feeling  cupy  lands  to  which  they  have  no 

6  Dol'  o  rous,  full    of   dolor   or  lawful  right, 

grief ;  sorrowful ;  sad.  ,J  Scav'  en  gers,  persons  employ 

8  Mock-heroic  ally,  with  mock  ed  to  sweep  the  streets  of  a  city 

bravery ;  imitating  in  a  weak,  laugh-  and  carry  off  the  filth. 


152  NATIONAL    THIRD    RKADEK. 

and  snuff  up  in  a  moment  the  least  or  most  distant  scent 
of  putrescent  l  meat.  Nay,  they  scent  out  good  meat  too, 
and  come  flying  from  all  quarters,  led  by  the  savory  odors 
of  our  camp-oven,  or  our  steaks  in  the  frying-pan. 

5.  One  day  we  hung  a  quarter  of  mutton  on  a  tree.  At 
that  time  not  one  of  these  birds  was  to  be  seen  or  heard; 
but  in  few  minutes  they  were  heard  cawing  in  the  distance, 
and  came  right  on  to  the  tree,  where  they  settled  in  num- 
bers, making  the  most  pathetic  appeals  to  us  to  go  away 
and  leave  the  mutton ;  but  as  these  crows  had  neither  bought 
it  nor  paid  for  it,  while  we  had,  we  declined  to  comply. 

6.  Frequently  Alfred  amuses  himself  by  imitating  their 
lack-a-daisical 2  note,  and  brings  them  in  scores  about  us 
on  the  trees.  Their  anxious  and  inquisitive 3  looks,  on  such 
occasions,  are  very  amusing.  They  evidently  think  that 
we  have  got  some  one  of  their  amiable  community  in  cap- 
tivity, and  hang  on  the  boughs  around,  and  turn  down 
their  black  heads,  and  their  black,  sparkling  eyes,  in  the 
most  impish  and  uncanny4  way. 

7.  They  have  many  very  beautiful  smaller  birds.  There 
is  a  black-and-white  bird  which  they  call  the  magpie-lark. 
To  me  it  more  resembles  a  small,  gentle  dove,  only  it  has 
not  pigeons'  legs.  The  colors  are  very  delicate  and  clean, 
and  its  manner  very  gentle.  It  is  always  found  near  streams, 
and  is  very  tame.  It  makes  a  ringing  cry  of  "  chain !  chain  I" 
and  looks  very  beautiful  on  the  boughs  of  the  green  trees. 

8.  There  are  fine  pigeons,  also,  called  the  bronze-winged 
pigeons,  and  a  host  of  birds  making  the  oddest  noises. 
One  has  a  note  just  like  a  cart-wheel  that  wants  greasing, 
and  another  like  a  wheel'barrow  that  wants  greasing ;  an- 
other, called  the  whip-bird,  seems  always  to  be  switching  a 
whip-lash  about  with  the  sharpest  whip-cord  on  it.  There 
are  tree-creepers,  too,  that  make  a  "  pee !  pee !  pee !"  that 
never  ceases.     You  can  not  tell  when  the  bird  takes  its 

1  Pu  tres'  cent,   decayed  ;    grow-  *  In  quia'  i  tive,  apt  to  ask  many 

Ing  offensive.  questions. 

*  Lack^-a-dai'  si  cal,    affectedly  *  Un  can'ny,  unskillful ;  wicked ; 

sad :  wentimentaL.  ont  of  the  way. 


THE  BUZZAKJJ.  155 

breath,  for  it  never  pauses  for  a  minute  for  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  together. 

9.  Very  amusing  birds,  too,  are  the  razor-grinders,  a 
species  of  black-and-white  fly-catchers,  with  long  tails  that 
they  flit  about  in  the  oddest  way.  These  birds  are  very 
familiar,  and  hop  about  the  horses  as  they  graze,  often 
flying  at  their  noses — I  suppose  to  catch  flies, — and  the 
horses  never  attempt  to  hurt  them. 

10.  But  among  the  most  beautiful  of  small  birds  is  the 
Australian  robin.  This  robin  is  less  than  ours,  and  is  a 
bird  of  much  gayer  colors.  On  the  back  he  is  more  like  a 
chaffinch,  and  the  red  on  his  breast  is  of  a  very  light  and 
brilliant  color. 

11.  There  is  a  very  brilliant  little  bird,  too,  called  the 
superb  warbler.  The  cock  bird  is  about  the  size  of  a  tom- 
tit, or  rather  larger,  and  is  a  very  splendid  fellow.  His 
head  and  neck  are  of  bright  and  glittering  blue,  with  lines  oi 
black  on  each  side  of  his  head.  His  back,  wings,  and  tail, 
are  brown.  As  he  flies  about,  he  looks  like  a  flying  gem. 
The  hen  bird  of  this  gaudy  little  fellow  is  of  a  sober  brown, 
and  her  breast  and  stomach  of  ash-color.  She  is  very  like 
some  of  our  willow  wrens.  William  Howitt. 

VI. 
67.     THE    BUZZARD. 

THE  buzzard  is  a  kind  of  falcon,1  or  hawk ;  but  he  is  a 
clumsy  and  lazy  bird,  and  can  not  fly  so  well  as  other 
kinds  of  hawks.  He  catches  frogs  and  mice,  and  such  in- 
sects as  he  can  take  without  the  trouble  of  flying  after  them 
2.  The 2  buzzard  is  found  in  Europe,  and  in  some  parts  cf 
America.  Count  Buffon,  who  lived  in  France,  and  wrote 
many  excellent  books  about  birds  and  other  animals,  tells 
us  that  one  of  his  friends  had  a 3  tame  buzzard,  which  was 
taken  in  a  snare,4  and  given  to  Buffon' s  friend.  * 

1  Falcon,  (fa'  kn),  a  bird  of  prey,        2  The,  (thu),  see  Rule  8,  p.  24. 
often  trained  to  catch  other  birds,  or        8  A,  (a),  see  Rule  2,  p.  23. 
game.  *  Snare,  (siiar),  net  <r  trap. 


154  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  At  first  lie  was  wild  and  ferocious ; *  but,  on  leaving 
him  without  food  for  a  time,  he  became  more  tame,  and 
would  eat  out  of  the  hand.  In  about  six  weeks  he  became 
quite  familiar,2  and  was  allowed  to  go  out  of  doors,  though 
with  his  wings  tied  to  prevent  his  flying  away.  In  this 
condition  he  walked  about  the  garden,  and  would  return 
when  called  to  be  fed. 

4.  After  some  time  he  became  quite  tame,  and  seemed  to 
be  attached  to  his  master,  and  then  his  wings  were  untied, 
a  small  bell  was  tied  to  his  leg,  and  a  piece  of  copper  was 
fastened  around  his  neck,  with  the  owner's  name  marked 
on  it.  He  was  then  given  full  liberty  to  go  where  he 
pleased,  which,  however,  he  soon  abused  by  flying  away 
into  the  woods. 

5.  The  gentleman  now  gave  up  his  buzzard  as  lost,  but 
in  four  hours  afterwards  he  rushed  into  the  house,  followed 
by  five  other  buzzards,  from  whose  attacks  he  was  glad  to 
seek  a  place  of  safety.  After  this  caper 3  he  became  more 
familiar  than  before,  and  so  attached  himself  to  his  master 
as  to  sleep  every  night  in  his  bed-room. 

6.  He  was  always  present  at  dinner,  and  sat  on  one  corner 
of  the  table.  He  would  caress 4  his  master  with  his  head 
and  bill,  but  would  do  this  to  no  other  person.  One  day, 
when  the  gentleman  rode  on  horseback,  the  buzzard  fol- 
lowed him  several  miles,  constantly  flying  near  him,  or  over 
his  head. 

7.  This  bird  did  not  like  either  dogs  or  cats,  but  was  not 
the  least  afraid  of  them.  Sometimes  he  had  battles  with 
these  animals,  but  always  came  off  victorious.  To  try  his 
courage,  four  strong5  cats  were  collected  together  in  the 
garden  with  the  bird,  and  some  raw  meat  thrown  to  them. 
The  bird  beat  them  all,  so  that  they  were  glad  to  retrea^ 
and  then  took  all  the  meat  himself. 

8.  The  buzzard  had  such  hatred  to  red  caps,  that  he 

•  Ferocious,    (fe  r6'  shus),    cruel  8  Ca'  per,  a   frolicsome    leap   or 

and  bloodthirsty.  spring ;  a  strange  act. 

2  Fa  mil'  iar,  tame  ;  easily  man-  4  Ca  ress',  show  signs  of  love, 

aged  ;  accustomed  to  the  family.  6  Strong,  see  Note  2,  p.  16. 


THE    BUZZARD.  155 

would  not  suffer  one  to  be  on  the  head  of  any  person  in  his 
presence.  And  he  was  so  expert  at  taking  them  off,  that 
the  laborers  in  the  field,  who  wore  them,  often  found  them- 
selves bare-headed,  without  knowing  wThat  became  of  their 
caps.  He  now  and  then  would  also  snatch  away  wigs, 
wifiiout  doing  the  wearer  any  other  injury  than  stealing  his 
property.  These  caps  and  wigs  he  always  carried  into  a 
tree,  the  tallest  in  the  neighborhood,  which  was  the  place 
where  he  deposited *  all  his  stolen  goods. 

9.  He  would  never  suffer  any  other  bird  of  the  rapacious 
kind  to  stay  near  his  dwelling,  but  would  attack  them 
boldly,  and  put  them  to  flight.  He  did  no  mischief  among 
his  master's  poultry,3  nor  were  the  chickens  and  young 
ducks,  after  a  while,  afraid  of  him.  But  he  was  not  so 
kind  to  the  hens  and  chickens  of  his  neighbors,  and  would 
sometimes  pounce 4  upon  them,  so  that  his  master  was  often 
obliged  to  advertise 5  that  he  would  pay  for  all  the  mischief 
his  buzzard  might  be  guilty  of.  He  was,  however,  fre- 
quently fired  at,  and,  at  different  times,  received  fifteen 
musket  shots,  wifliout,  however,  having  a  bone  broken. 

10.  Once,  while  flying  near  a  forest,  he  dared  to  attack 
a  young  fox,  which,  being  seen  by  a  man,  he  was  fired  at 
twice.  The  fox  was  killed  by  the  shot,  and  the  bird  had 
his  wing  broken,  but  contrived  to  escape  from  the  man,  and 
was  lost  for  seven  days.  The  man  knowing,  by  the  noise 
of  the  bell  on  the  bird,  to  whom  he  belonged,  went  and  in- 
formed the  owner  what  he  had  done.  Search  was  made, 
but  the  buzzard  could  not  be  found. 

11.  A  whistle,  used  to  call  him  home,  was  blown  every 
day  for  six  days,  but  the  bird  made  no  answer.  On  the 
seventh  day,  however,  he  answered  with  a  feeble  cry,  and 
was  soon  found,  with  his  wing  broken,  being  very  weak  and 

1  De  pos'  it  ed,  laid  down  ;  put  for  their  eggs,  feathers,  etc.,  such  as 
away.  cocks  and  hens,    capons,    turkeys, 

2  Rapacious,  (ra  pa'  shus),  living    ducks  and  geese. 

on    plunder ;    accustomed    to  seize  *  Pounce,   to  fall  suddenly  ;   to 

for  food.  fall  and  seize  with  the  claws. 

8  Poultry,   (p6lt'r!),  tame  fowls  6  Ad  vertise',  give  public  notice, 

which  are  kept  for  the  table,  and  make  known ;  publish. 


156  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

lean.  He  had  walked  a  mile  and  a-half  from  the  place 
where  he  was  wounded,  and  had  nearly  reached  his  mas- 
ter's house.  In  six  weeks  his  wounds  were  healed,  and  he 
began  to  fly  about,  and  follow  his  old  habits  &s  before. 
Thus  he  continued  for  about  a  year,  when  he  disappt&red, 
never  to  return.  Whether  he  was  killed,  or  escaped  from 
choice,  was  not  known.  Comjbtock. 


SECTION    XIII. 
i. 

68.     THANKSGIVING    STORY. 

*  "TV  /TAB Y  lM  said  the  younger  of  two  little  girls,  as  they 
-i-VJL  nestled l  under  a  coarse  coverlet,  one  cold  night  in 
December,  "tell  me  about  Thanksgiving-day,  before  papa2 
went  to  heaven.  I'm  cold  and  hungry,  and  I  can't  go  to 
sleep :  I  want  something  nice  to  think  about." 

2.  "  Hush !"  said  the  elder  child,  "  don't  let  dear  mamma3 
hear  you  :  come  nearer  to  me ;"  and  they  laid  their  cheeks 
together. 

3.  "I  fancy  papa  was  rich.  We  lived  in  a  very  nice 
house.  I  know  there  were  pretty  pictures  on  the  wall ;  and 
there  were  nice  velvet  chairs,  and  the  carpet  was  thick  and 
soft,  like  the  green  moss-patches  in  the  wood ;  and  we  had 
pretty  gold-fishes  on  the  side-table,  and  Tony,  my  black 
nurse,  used  to  feed  them. 

4.  "  And  papa ! — you  can't  remember  papa,  Letty, — he 
was  tall  and  grand,  like  a  prince,  and  when  he  smiled  he 
made  me  think  of  angels.  He  brought  me  toys  and  sweet- 
meats, and  carried  me  out  to  the  stable,  and  set  me  on 
Borneo's  live  back,  and  laughed  because  I  was  afraid !    And 

1  Nestled,  (nes'  Id),  lay  close  and  8  Mamma,  (mam  ml),  mother  ;— 
snug,  as  a  bird  in  her  nest.  a  word  of  tenderness,  nsed  mostly 

•  Papa,  (pa pa),  father.  by  young-  children 


THE    SALE    OF    THE    PET    LAMB.  157 

I  used  to  watch  to  see  him  come  up  the  street,  and  then  I 
ran  to  the  door  to  jump  into  his  arms  :  he  was  a  dear,  kind 
papa/'  said  the  child  in  a  faltering1  voice. 

5.  "  Don't  cry,''  said  the  little  one ;  "  please  to  tell  me 
some  more."  "  "Well,  Thanksgiving-day  we  were  so  happy ! 
We  sat  around  such  a  large  table,  with  so  many  people-  - 
aunts,  and  uncles,  and  cousins — I  can't  think  why  they 
never  come  to  see  us  now,  Letty.  And  Betty  made  such 
sweet  pies !    And  we  had  a  big — big  turkey. 

6.  "  Papa  would  have  me  sit  next  to  him,  and  gave  me 
the  wish-bone,  and  all  the  .plums  out  of  his  pudding ;  and 
after  dinner  he  would  take  me  into  his  lap,  and  tell  me 
about  '  Eed  Eiding-Hood,'  and  call  me  his  '  pet,'  and '  bird/ 
and  *  fairy.'  Oh,  Letty,  I  can't  tell  any  more ;  I  believe  I'm 
going  to  cry." 

7.  "  I'm  very  cold,"  said  Letty.  "  Does  papa  know,  up 
in  heaven,  that  we  are  poor  and  hungry  now  ?" 

8.  "  Yes — no — I  can't  tell,"  answered  Mary,  wiping  away 
her  tears ;  unable  to  reconcile 2  her  ideas  of  heaven  with 
such  a  thought.     "  Hush ! — mamma  will  hear !" 

9.  Mamma  had  "heard."  The  coarse  garment,  upon 
which  she  had  toiled  since  sunrise,  dropped  from  her  hands, 
and  tears  were  forcing  themselves,  thick  and  fast,  through 
her  closed  eyelids.  The  simple  recital3  found  but  too  sad 
an  echo  in  that  widowed  heart  Fanny  Fern. 


n 

69.     THE    SALE    OF    THE    PET    LAMB. 


OH !  poverty  is  a  weary  thing  ;  'tis  full  of  grief  and  pain  ; 
It  boweth  down  the  heart  of  man,  and  dulls  his  cunning4 
brain  ; 
It  maketh  even  the  little  child  with  heavy  sighs  complain. 

1  Paltering,  (far*  tlr  ing),  falling  3  Re  cit'  al,  a  telling  the  particu 
short ;  trembling ;  hesitating.  lars  of  any  thing. 

2  Rec'  on  cile\    bring    back    to  *  Cun'  ning,  knowing;  skillful; 
union  and  friendship .  cause  to  agree,  artful. 


158  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

2. 

Hie  children  of  the  rich  man  have  not  their  bread  to  win  $ 
They  scarcely  know  how  labor  is  the  penalty '  of  sin  ; 
Even  as  the  lilies  of  the  field,  they  neither  toil  nor  spin. 

3. 
And  year  by  year,  as  life  wears  on,  no  wants  have  they  to  bear 
In  all  the  luxury  of  the  earth  they  have  abundant  share  ; 
They  walk  along  life's  pleasant  ways,  where  all  is  rich  and  fair. 

4 

The  children  of  the  poor  man,  though  they  be  young  each  one. 
Must  rise  betimes  each  morning,  before  the  rising  sun  ; 
And  scarcely  when  the  sun  is  set  their  daily  task  is  done. 

5. 
Few  things  have  they  to  call  their  own,  to  fill  their  hearts  with 

pride, 
The  sunshine  and  the  summer  flowers  upon  the  highway  side, 
And  their  own  free  companionship  on  heathy  commons  wide. 

G. 
Hunger  and  cold  and  weariness,  these  are  a  frightful  three ; 
But  another  curse  there  is  besides,  that  darkens  poverty — 
It  may  not  have  one  thing  to  love,  how  small  soe'er  it  be. 

7. 
A  thousand  flocks  were  on  the  hills,  a  thousand  flocks  and  more. 
Feeding  in  sunshine  pleasantly :  they  were  the  rich  man's  store. 
There  was  the  while  one  little  lamb  beside  a  cottage  door  ; 

8. 
A  little  lamb  that  rested  with  the  children  'ncath  the  tree, 
That  ate,  meek  creature,  from  their  hands,  and  nestled3  to  their 

knee ; 
That  had  a  place  within  their  hearts,  one  of  the  family. 

9. 

But  want,  even  as  an  armed  man,  came  down  upon  their  shed : 

The  father  labor'd  all  day  long  that  his  children  might  be  fed, 

And,  one  by  one,  their  household  things  were  sold  to  buy  them 

bread. 

1  Pen'  al  ty,  punishment  for  crime,        2  Nestled,  (nes'  sld),  lay  close  and 
or  for  any  violation  of  law.  snug 


THE    SALE    Ob    THE    PET    LAMb 


159 


That  father,  with  a  downcast  eye,  upon  his  threshold 1  stood, 
Gaunt2  poverty  each  pleasant  thought  had  in  his  heart  subdued. 
"What  is  the  creature's  life  to  us?"  said  he  ;  "'twill  buy  us  food 

11. 
"Ay,*  though  the  children  weep  all  day,  and  with  down-droop- 
ing head 
Each  does  his  small  task  mournfully,  the  hungry  must  be  fed  ; 
And  that  which  has  a  price  to  bring  must  go  to  buy  us  bread." 

1  Threshold,    ( thresh'  6ld),    the  grim ;   lean,  as  with    suffering   oi 

door-sill;    the   entrance  to  a   door;  hunger. 

the  stone,  plank,  or  other  timber  8  Sub  dued',    conquered ;     over 

which  lies  under  a  door.  come. 

•  Gaunt,    (g&tit ),    pinched    and  *  Aye.  (St),  y^e  ;  yes 


160  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER, 

12. 

It  went  Oh !  parting  has  a  pang  the  hardest  heart  to  wring ; 
But  the  tender  soul  of  a  little  child  with  fervent '  love  doth  cling, 
"With  love  that  hath  no  feignings  false,  unto  each  gentle  thing. 

13. 
Therefore  most  sorrowful  it  was  those  children  small  to  see, 
Most  sorrowful  to  hear  them  plead  for  the  lamb  so  piteously : 
d  mother  dear,  it  loveth  us ;  and  what  besides  have  we?" 

14. 
"  Let's  take  him  to  the  broad  green  hill !"  in  his  impotent 3  despair, 
Said  one  strong  boy :  "let's  take  him  off,  the  hills  are  wide  and 

fair ; 
I  know  a  little  hiding-place,  and  we  will  keep  him  there." 

15. 

Oh  vain !     They  took  the  little  lamb,  and  straightway  tied  him 

down, 
With  a  strong  cord  they  tied  him  fast ;  and  o'er  the  common 

brown, 
And  o'er  the  hot  and  flinty  roads,  they  took  him  to  the  town. 

16. 
The  little  children  through  that  day,  and  throughout- all  the 

morrow, 
From  every  thing  about  the  house  a  mournful  thought  did  borrow ; 
The  very  bread  they  had  to  eat  was  food  unto  their  sorrow.    . 

17. 

Oh !  poverty  is  a  weary  thing  ;  'tis  full  of  grief  and  pain  ; 
It  keepeth  down  the  soul  of  man  as  with  an  iron  chain  ; 
It  maketh  even  the  little  child  with  heavy  sighs  complain. 

Maky  Howitt, 

rn. 

70.     CLEON    AND    I. 

CLEON  hath  a  million  acres,  ne'er  a  one  have  I ; 
Cleon  dwelleth  in  a  palace,  in  a  cottage  I ; 
Cleon  hath  a  dozen  fortunes,  not  a  penny  I ; 
Yet  the  poorer  of  the  twain  is  Cleon,  and  not  L 

1  Per'  vent,  hot ;  warm  in  feel-        » Im'  po  tent,  not  potent  or  pow 
Ing :  earnest.  erful :  feeble-:  weak 


THE    HERITAGE.  16] 

2.  Cleon,  true,  possesseth  acres,  but  the  landscape 1 1 ; 
Half  the  charms  to  me  it  yieldeth  money  can  not  buy. 
Cleon  harbors  sloth 2  and  dullness,  freshening  vigor  I ; 
He  in  velvet,8 1  in  fustian,4  richer  man  am  I. 

3.  Cleon  is  a  slave  to  grandeur,5  free  as  thought  am  I ; 
Cleon  fees  a  score 6  of  doctors,  need  of  none  have  I ; 
Wealth-surrounded,  care-environed,7  Cleon  fears  to  die 
Death  may  come,  he'll  find  me  ready,  happier  man  am  1 

4  Cleon  Bees  no  charms  in  nature,  in  a  daisy  I ; 

CleoD  hears  no  anthems  ringing  in  the  sea  and  sky ; 
Nature  sings  to  me  forever,  earnest  listener  I ; 
State  for  state,  with  all  attendants,  who  would  change  f 
Not  L  Charles  Mackay. 

IV. 

71.    THE    HERITAGE. 

THE  rich  man's  son  inherits8  lands, 
And  piles  of  brick,  and  stone,  and  gold ; 
And  he  inherits  soft,  white  hands, 
And  tender  flesh  that  fears  the  cold, 
Nor  dares  to  wear  a  garment  old ; 
A  heritage,9  it  seems  to  me, 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee.10 

2.   The  rich  man's  son  inherits  cares : 

The  bank  may  break,  the  factory  burn, 

1  Land'  scape,  a  portion  of  land        e  Score,  a  notch  or  mark  made  to 
which  the  eye  can  take  in  at  a  single    keep  an  account ;  twenty. 

view,  with  all  the  objects  it  contains.         7  Care-en  vi'  roned,  surrounded 

2  Sloth,  slowness ;  laziness ;  idle-    bv  cares. 

ness.  "  in  her'  it,  to  take  what  is  left 

3  Vel'  vet,    a    soft    cloth   woven    by  parents  or  ancestors. 

wholly  from  silk,  or  silk  and  cotton  9  Her'  it  age,  that  which  descends 

mixed,  having  a  short  shag  of  the  to  us  from  our  ancestors. 

thread  on  the  outside.  10  Fee,  a  fee,  or  fee  simple,  is  prop- 

4  Fustian,  (fast'  yan),  a  kind  of  erty,  especially  land,  held  by  a  per- 
coarse  twilled  or  ribbed  cotton  cloth,  son  in  his  own  right,  and  which 

5  Grandeur,  (grand'yflr),  splendor  may    descend    to    his    children  o? 
of  appearance  ;  display.  other  heirs  forever. 


162  National  third  reader, 

A  breath  may  burst  his  bubble  shares, 
And  soft  white  hands  could  hardly  earn 
A  living  that  would  serve  his  turn ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

3.   The  rich  man's  son  inherits  wants, 

His  stomach  craves  for  dainty  fare ; 
With  sated *  heart  he  hears  the  pants 
Of  toiling  hinds 2  with  brown  arms  bare, 
And  wearies  in  his  easy-chair ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
One  scarce  would  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

4.  What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit  ? 

Stout  muscles  and  a  sinewy  heart, 
A  hardy  frame,  a  hardier  spirit ; 

King  of  two  hands,  he  does  his  part 

In  every  useful  toil  and  art ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

5.  "What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit  ? 

Wishes  o'erjoyed  with  humble  things, 
A  rank  adjudged  with  toil-won  merit, 

Content  that  from  employment  springs, 

A  heart  that  in  his  labor  sings ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee.0 

6.  What  doth  the  poor  man's  son  inherit  ? 

A  patience  learned  by  being  poor, 
Courage,  if  sorrow  come,  to  bear  it, 
A  fellow-feeling  that  is  sure 
To  make  the  outcast  bless  his  door ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
A  king  might  wish  to  hold  in  fee. 

1  Sated,  (sat'  ed),  fed  or  gratified        a  Hind,  (hind),  one  of  the  lowest 
to  the  extent  of  desire.  class  of  laborers  in  the  country. 


INGENUITY    AND    INDUSTRY    REWARDED.  163 

7    O  rich  man's  son !  there  is  a  toil, 
That  with  all  other  level  stands : 

Large  charity  doth  never  soil, 
But  only  whiten,  soft,  white  hands, — 
This  is  the  best  crop  from  thy  lands ; 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

Worth  being  rich  to  hold  in  fee. 

8.  O  poor  man's  son !  scorn  not  thy  state ; 

There  is  worse  weariness  than  thine — 

In  merely  being  rich  and  great : 
Toil  only  gives  the  soul  to  shine, 
And  makes  rest  fragrant  and  benign, — 

A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 

Worth  being  poor  to  hold  in  fee. 

9.  Both,  heirs  to  some  six  feet  of  sod, 

Are  equal  in  the  earth  at  last : 
Both,  children  of  the  same  dear  God, 

Prove  title  to  your  heirship  vast 

By  record  of  a  well-filled  past ; 
A  heritage,  it  seems  to  me, 
Well  worth  a  life  to  hold  in  fee.  J.  R.  Lowell. 


SECTION  XIV. 

* 

I. 
72.     INGENUITY    AND    INDUSTRY    REWARDED. 

ABICH  husbandman 1  had  two  sons,  the  one  exactly  & 
year  older  than  the  other.  The  very  day  the  second 
was  born,  he  set,  in  the  entrance  of  his  orchard,2  two 
young  apple-trees  of  equal  size,  which  he  cultivated  with 
the  same  care,  and  which  grew  so  equally,  that  no  person 
could  perceive  the  least  difference  between  them. 

1  Hus'  baud  man,   a  planter  or        »  Or'  chard,  a  collection  of  fruits 
farmer.  trees. 


164  NATIONAL    THIRD    HEADER. 

2.  When  his  children  were  capable  of  handling  garden 
tools,  he  took  them,  one  fine  morning  in  spring,  to  see  these 
two  trees,  which  he  had  planted  for  them,  and  called  after 
their  names ;  and  when  they  had  sufficiently  admired  their 
growth,  and  the  number  of  blossoms  that  covered  them, 
he  said : 

3.  "  My  dear  children,  I  give  you  these  trees :  you  see 
they  are  in  good  condition.  They  will  thrive  as  much  by 
your  care,  as  they  will  decline  by  your  negligence ; 1  and 
their  fruit2  will  reward  you  in  proportion  to  your  labor." 

4.  The  youngest,  named,  Edmund,  was  industrious  and 
attentive.  He  busied  himself  in  clearing  his  tree  of  insects 
that  would  hurt  it ;  and  he  propped 3  up  its  stem,  to  prevent 
its  taking  a  wrong  bent. 

5.  He  loosened  the  earth  about  it,  that  the  warmth  of 
the  sun,  and  the  moisture  of  the  dews,  might  cherish  the 
roots.  His  mother  had  not  tended  him  more  carefully  in 
his  infancy,  than  he  tended  his  young  apple-tree. 

6.  His  brother,  Moses,  did  not  imitate  his  example.  He 
spent  a  great  deal  of  time  on  a  mount  that  was  near,  throw- 
ing stones  at  the  passengers  in  the  road.  He  went  among 
all  the  little  dirty  country  boys  in  the  neighborhood,  to  box 
with  them ;  so  that  he  was  often  seen  with  broken  shins 
and  black  eyes,  from  the  kicks  and  blows  he  received  in 
his  quarrels. 

7.  In  short,  he  neglected  his  tree  so  far,  that  he  never 
thought  of  it,  till  one  day  in  autumn  he  by  chance  saw 
Edmund's  tree  so  full  of  apples,  streaked  with  purple  and 
gold,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  props  which  supported 
its  branches,  the  weight  of  its  fruit  must  have  bent  it  to 
the  ground. 

8.  Struck  with  the  sight  of  so  fine  a  tree,  he  hastened  to 
his  own,  hoping  to  find  as  large  a  crop  upon  it ;  but,  to  his 
great  surprise,  he  saw  scarcely  any  thing,  except  branches 
covered  with  moss,  and  a  few  yellow  withered  leaves. 

1  Neg'  li  gence,  want  of  care  ;  3  Propped,  supported  or  prevent- 
neglect.  ed  from  falling  by  placing  something 

Fruit,  (frflt),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24        under  or  against. 


INGENUITY    AND    INDUSTRY    REWARDED.  165 

9.  Full  of  passion  and  jealousy,  he  ran  to  his  father,  and 
said :  "  Father,  what  sort  of  a  tree  is  that  which  you  have 
given  me  ?  It  is  as  dry  as  a  broomstick ;  and  I  shall  not 
have  ten  apples  on  it.  My  brother  yon  have  used  better : 
bid  him  at  least  shaie  his  apples  with  me." 

10.  "  Share  with  you  !"  said  his  father  ;  "  so  the  industri- 
ous must  lose  his  labor,  to  feed  the  idle  1  Be  satisfied  with 
your  lot :  it  is  the  effect  of  your  negligence ;  and  do  net 
think  to  accuse  me  of  injustice,  when  you  see  your  brother's 
rich  crop.  Your  tree  was  as  fruitful,  and  in  as  good  order 
as  his ;  it  bore  as  many  blossoms,  and  grew  in  the  same 
soil,  only  it  was  not  fostered  with  the  same  care. 

11.  "  Edmund  has  kept  hia  tree  clear  of  hurtful  insects  ; 
but  you  have  suffered  them  to  eat  up  yours  in  its  blossoms. 
As  I  do  not  choose  to  let  any  thing  which  God  has"  given 
me,  and  for  which  I  hold  myself  accountable 1  to  him,  go 
to  ruin,  I  shall  take  this  tree  from  you,  and  call  it  no  more 
by  your  name. 

12.  "  It  must  pass  through  your  brother's  hands,  before 
it  can  recover  itself ;  and  from  this  moment,  both  it  and 
the  fruit  it  may  bear  are  his  property.  You  may,  if  you 
will,  go  into  my  nursery,2  and  look  for  another,  and  rear  it, 
to  make  amends  for  your  fault ;  but  if  you  neglect  it,  that  too 
shall  be  given  to  your  brother,  for  assisting  me  in  my  labor." 

13.  Moses  felt  the  justice  of  his  father's  sentence,  and 
the  wisdom  of  his  design.  He  therefore  went  that  moment 
into  the  nursery,  and  chose  one  of  the  most  thriving  apple- 
trees  he  could  find.  Edmund  assisted  him  with  his  advice 
in  rearing  it ;  and  Moses  embraced  every  occasion  of  pay- 
ing attention  to  it. 

14.  He  was  now  never  out  of  humor  with  his  comrades, 
and  still  less  with  himself;  for  he  applied  cheerfully  to 
work ;  and  in  autumn,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his 
tree  fully  answer  his  hopes.  Thus  he  had  the  double  ad- 
vantage,  of  enriching  himself  wifli  a  splendid  crop  of  fruit, 

1  Ac  count'  a  ble,  liable  to  be  where  young  trees  are  raised  for  tne 
called  to  account ;  answerable.  purpose  of   being  transplanted  ;  a 

*  Nursery,    ( nere'  er  !\    a    place    plantation  of  young  trees. 


166 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 


and  at  the  same  time  of  subduing  the  vicious  habits  he  had 
contracted.  His  father  was  so  well  pleased  with  this 
change,  that  the  following  year  he  divided  the  produce  of  a 
small  orchard  between  him  and  his  brother.  Ber'quin. 


n. 

73.     PLANTING    TREES. 

AN  old  man  was  busily  employed  in  planting  and  in- 
grafting an  apple-tree.  Some  one  passing  by,  rudely 
accosted  him  wifti  the  inqui'ry :  "  Why  do  you  plant  trees, 
who  can  not  hope  to  eat  the  fruit  of  them  ?" 

2.  The  old  man  raised  himself  up,  and  leaning  on  his 
spade,  replied :  "  Some  one  planted  trees  before  I  was  born, 
and  I  have  eaten  the  fruit :  I  now  plant  for  others,  that 


PLANTING    TREES  167 

the  memorial1  of  my  gratitude  may  exist  when  I  am  dead 
and  gone." 

3.  It  is  a  narrow,  selfish  feeling  that  confines  onr  views 
within  the  circle  of  our  own  private  interests.  If  man  had 
been  made  to  live  for  himself  alone,  we  may  justly  conclude 
that  every  one  would  have  been  placed  by  himself,  and  his 
bounds  marked  out,  so  that  he  might  live  alone.  But  since 
God  has  made  us  to  live  in  society,  He  designs  that  wo 
should  be  helpful  to  each  other. 

4.  The  truly  ingenuous,2  benevolent  mind,  takes  more 
pleasure  in  an  act  which  will  confer  blessings  upon  others, 
than  in  one  that  terminates 3  on  himself.  The  selfish  man 
wraps  himself  in  his  cloak,  and  cares  not  for  the  sufferings 
of  others,  so  that  he  keeps  warm  himself.  This  old  man, 
however,  remembered  how  much  he  was  indebted  to  those 
who  had  lived  before  him,  and  resolved  to  pay  his  debts. 

5.  If  we  would  look  aroilnd  us,  we  should  find  ourselves 
indebted  to  others  on  every  side,  for  the  comforts  which  we 
now  enjoy — first  to  God,  and  under  Him,  to  those  whom 
He  has  employed  as  His  agents 4  to  give  them  to  us.  Ought 
we  not,  then,  to  strive  in  some  measure  to  repay  these  obli- 
gations 5  by  doing  something  to  promote  the  happiness  and 
well-being  of  others  ? 

G.  Who  gave  us  the  blessing  of  freedom  which  we  enjoy  ? 
Did  not  our  fathers  brave  the  ocean  and  the  wilderness  to 
establish  it  ?  Ought  we  not,  then,  to  transmit 6  this  precious 
boon 7  to  our  posterity  ? 8 

7.  And  so,  in  whatever  direction  we  look,  we  find  some 
blessing,  for  which  wTe  are  indebted  to  the  generosity,  pub- 
lic spirit,  or  Christian  benevolence  of  others.  Let  us  retun? 
the  blessing,  with  interest,  into  the  bosom  of  others. 

1  Me  mo'  ri  al,  that  which  serves  6  Ob  li  ga'  tions,    favors  ;   acts 

to  keep  something  in  remembrance,  which  hind  a  person  to  do  something 

3  In  gen'  u  ous,    noble  ;    frank  ;  for  another,  or  to  forbear  something, 

open  ;  without  concealment.  8  Trans  mit',  to  pass  over  to  an- 

*  Ter/  min  ates,  comes  to  a  limit  other ;  to  hand  down. 

in  time  ;  ends.  '  Boon,  a  gift ;  a  present. 

*  A'  gent,  a  person  who  acts  for  '  Pos  ter'  i  ty,  children  and  their 
another.  descendants 


168  NATIONAL    THIRD    READEli. 

8.  Dr.  Franklin,1  having  done  a  favor  to  some  one,  and 
being  pressed  with  thanks,  requested  the  person  whom  he 
had  obliged,  to  embrace  the  first  opportunity  of  doing  a 
kindness  to  some  other  person,  and  to  request  him  to  pass 
it  round,  as  all  mankind  are  brothers.  A  greater  than  he 
has  said ;  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

Newcomb. 

m. 

74.    THE    PLANTING    OF    THE    APPLE    TREE. 

COME,  let  us  plant  the  apple  tree. 
Cleave  the  tough  greensward  with  the  spade ; 
"Wide  let  its  hollow  bed  be  made ; 
There  gently  lay  the  roots,  and  there 
Sift  the  dark  mould  with  kindly  care, 

And  press  it  o'er  them  tenderly, 
As,  round  the  sleeping  infant's  feet 
We  softly  fold  the  cradle  sheet ; 
So  plant  we  the  apple  tree. 

2.  What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree  ? 
Buds,  which  the  breath  of  summer  days 
Shall  lengthen  into  leafy  sprays ; 

Boughs  where  the  thrush,  with  crimson  breast, 
Shall  haunt  and  sing  and  hide  her  nest ; 

We  plant,  upon  the  sunny  lea, 
A  shadow  for  the  noontide  hour, 
A  shelter  from  the  summer  shower, 

When  we  plant  the  apple  tree. 

3.  What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree  ? 
Sweets  for  a  hundred  flowery  springs, 
To  load  the  May-wind's  restless  wings, 
When,  from  the  orchard  row,  he  pours 
Its  fragrance  through  our  open  doors ; 

A  world  of  blossoms  for  the  bee, 


1  Benjamin  Franklin,  an  emi-  Massachusetts,  on  the  6th  of  Janu- 
nent  American  moralist  statesman,  ary,  1706,  and  died  in  Philadelphia 
ami  philosopher,  was  bom  in  Boston,     April  17th.  1790, 


THE  PLANTING  OF  THE   APPLE  TREE.  1G9 

Flowers  for  the  sick  girl's  silent  room, 
For  the  glad  infant  sprigs  of  bloom, 
We  plant  with  the  apple  tree. 

4.       What  plant  we  in  this  apple  tree  ? 
Fruits  that  shall  swell  in  sunny  June, 
And  redden  in  the  August  noon, 
And  drop,  when  gentle  airs  come  by, 
That  fan  the  blue  September  sky, 

While  children  come,  wifh  cries  of  glee, 
And  seek  them  where  the  fragrant  grass 
Betrays  their  bed  to  those  who  pass, 
At  the  foot  of  the  apple  tree. 

5        And  when,  above  this  apple  tree, 
The  winter  stars  are  quivering  bright, 
The  winds  go  howling  through  the  night, 
Girls,  whose  young  eyes  o'erflow  with  mirth, 
Shall  peel  its  fruit  by  cottage  hearth, 

And  guests  in  prouder  homes  shall  see, 
Heaped  with  the  grape  of  Cintra's 1  vine, 
And  golden  orange  of  the  line, 

The  fruit  of  the  apple  tree. 

6.       The  fruitage 2  of  this  apple  tree 
Winds,  and  our  flag  of  stripe  and  star 
Shall  bear  to  coasts  that  He  afar, 
Where  men  shall  wonder  at  the  view, 
And  ask  in  what  fair  groves  they  grew ; 

And  sojourners3  beyond  the  sea 
Shall  think  of  childhood's  careless  day, 
And  long,  long  hours  of  summer  play, 

In  the  shade  of  the  apple  tree. 

Cintra,  (s!n'  tra),  a  town  of  Por-  a  Fruitage,  (fr6f  ej),  fruit  collect 

tugal,  fourteen  miles  north-west  of  ively,  or  as  a  whole.     For  the  pro 

Lisbon,  on  the  slope  of  the  moun-  nunciation,  see  Rule  4,  p.  24. 

tain  chain  of  Cintra.     It  is  noted  for  3  Sojourner,  (so'  jSrn  er),  a  stran- 

the  beauty  of  its  situation  and  its  ger  or  traveler  who  dwells  in  a  pla*v 

delicious  climate.  for  a  if  me. 


170  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

7.  Each  year  shall  give  this  apple  tree 
A  broader  flush *  of  roseate 2  bloom, 
A  deeper  maze3  of  verdurous4  gloom, 
And  loosen,  when  the  frost-clouds  lower, 
The  crisp  brown  leaves  in  thicker  shower. 

The  years  shall  come  and  pass,  but  we 
Shall  hear  no  longer,  where  we  he, 
The  summer's  songs,  the  autumn's  sigh, 

In  the  boughs  of  the  apple  tree. 

8.  And  time  shall  waste  this  apple  tree. 
Oh,  when  its  aged  branches  throw 
Thin  shadows  on  the  ground  below, 
Shall  fraud5  and  force  and  iron  will 
Oppress  the  weak  and  helpless  still  ? 

"What  shall  the  tasks  of  mercy  be, 
Amid  the  toils,  the  strifes,  the  tears 
Of  those  who  live  when  length  of  years, 

Is  wasting  this  apple  tree  ? 

9.  a  "Who  planted  this  old  apple  tree  ?" 
The  children  of  that  distant  day 
Thus  to  some  aged  man  shall  say ; 
And,  gazing  on  its  mossy  stem, 

The  gray-haired  man  shall  answer  them : 
"  A  poet  of  the  land  was  he, 
.  Born  in  the  rude  but  good  old  times ; 
'Tis  said  he  made  some  quaint  old  rhymes 
On  planting  the  apple  tree." 

William  Cullen  Bryant. 

*  Plush,    a    sudden    flowing;    a  *  Verdurous,  jvSrd'ySr  us),  cov- 

blush;  a  glow.  ered  with  verdure;  green. 

1  Roseate,  (r6'  ze  at),  of  a   rose  6  Fraud,  (frad),  the  act  of  deceiv 

color ;  blooming.  ing  with  a  view  to  gain  an  unlawful 

8  Maze,  a  confusing  and  baffling  or  unfair  advantage ;  a  trick  thought 

net  work  of  paths  or  passages  ;  con-  fully  used  by  which  the  right  oi 

fusion  of  thought;  uncertainty,  interest  of  another  is  injured. 


THE    BROOK.  171 


SECTION    XV. 
i. 

75.     THE    BROOK. 

I  COME  from  haunts  of  coot !  and  hern,2 
I  make  a  sudden  sally,3 
And  sparkle  out  among  the  fern,     "kjft 
To  bicker 4  down  a  valley. 

2.  By  thirty  hills  I  hurry  down, 

Or  slip  between  the  ridges, 
By  twenty  thorps,5  a  little  town, 
And  half  a  hundred  bridges. 

3.  I  chatter  over  stony  ways, 

In  little  sharps6  and  trebles,7 
I  bubble  into  eddying  bays, 
I  babble 8  on  the  pebbles. 

4.  With  many  a  curve,  my  bank  I  fret 

By  many  a  field  and  fallow,9 
And  many  a  fairy  foreland 10  set 
With  willow- weed  and  mallow.11 

5.  I  chatter,  chatter,  as  I  flow 

To  join  the  brimming  river, 

*  Coot,  (k§t),  a  water-fowl  that  sounds ;  tlie  highest  of  the  foui 
frequents  lakes  and  other  still  waters,  principal  parts  in  music,  which  is 
It  has  a  bald  head,  a  black  body,  and     usually  sung  by  females. 

is  about  fifteen  inches  long.  8  Bab'  ble,  make  a  constant  mur- 

2  Hern,  (he'rn),  this  is  used  for  the  muring  noise  ;  utter  words  imper- 
name  heron,  a  water-fcwl.     It  is  a    fectly. 

wading  bird  with  long  legs  and  neck,  9  Fal'  low,  land  that  has  lain  for 

and  is  remarkable  for  flying  almost  a  year  or  more  un worked  or  un- 

directly  up.  seeded  ;  land  which  has  been  plowed 

3  Sal'  ly,  a  leap,  or  rushing  out  without  being  sowed. 

4  Bicker,  move  quickly  and  trem-  10  Fore'  land,  a  point  of  land  ex 
ulously  like  flame  or  water ;  quiver,  tending  into  a  sea  or  lake  some  dis. 

6  Thorp,  a  small  village  ;  a  little  tance  from  the  line  of  the  shore  ;  a 

cluster  of  houses  in  the  country.  head-land. 

6  Sharps,  high  tones  or  sounds.  "  Mai'  low,  a  plant  whose  fruit  is 

*  Treb'le,  the  highest  tones  or  often  called  by  boy  sand  girls  a  cheese. 


172  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER. 

For  men  may  come,  and  men  may  go, 
But  I  go  on  forever. 

6.   I  wind  about,  and  in  and  out, 
With  here  a  blossom  sailing, 
And  here  and  there  a  lusty  trout, 
And  here  and  there  a  grayling  ;* 

7.  And  here  and  there  a  foamy  flake 

Upon  me  as  I  travel, 
"With  many  a  silvery  water-break 
Above  the  golden  gravel ; 

8.  And  draw  them  all  along  and  flow 

To  join  the  brimming  river, 
For  men  may  come,  and  men  may  go, 
But  I  go  on  forever. 

9.  I  steal  by  lawns2  and  grassy  plots, 

I  slide  by  hazel  covers, 
I  move  the  sweet  forget-me-nots 
That  grow  for  happy  lovers. 

10.  I  slip,  I  slide,  I  gloom,3 1  glance, 

Among  my  skimming  swallows ; 
I  make  the  netted  sunbeam  dance 
Against  my  sandy  shallows. 

11.  I  murmur  under  moon  and  stars, 

In  brambly  wildernesses ; 
I  linger  by  my  shingly 4  bars, 
I  loiter  round  my  cresses  ;5 

12.  And  out  again  I  curve  and  flow 

To  join  the  brimming6  river, 
For  men  may  come,  and  men  may  go, 

But  I  go  on  forever.  Alfred  Tennyson 


1  Gray'  ling,  a  fish  of  the  trout  *  Shingly,  (shlng'  gll),  composed 
kind,  having  a  smaller  mouth.  of  small  stones  or  loose  gravel. 

2  Lawn,  (Ian),  grass-ground  in  6  Cresses,  (kres'ez),  certain  plants 
front  of  or  near  a  house,  kept  which  grow  near  the  water  and  are 
smoothly  mown.  used  as  a  salad. 

*  Gloom,  shine  obscurely  ;  glim-  8  Brim'  ming,  full  to  the  brim, 

mer :  look  dark  or  upper  edgre 


LITTLE    STREAMS, 


17S 


n. 

76.     LITTLE    STREAMS. 

LITTLE  streams  are  light  and  shadow. 
Flowing  through  the  pasture  meadow, 
Flowing  by  the  green  way-side, 
Through  the  forest  dim  and  wide, 
Through  the  hamlet l  still  and  small— 
By  the  cottage,  by  the  hall, 


By  the  ruirid  abbey2  still — 
Turning  here  and  there  a  mill, 


1  Ham'  let,  a  small  village.  and  bound  to  remain  single  and  de- 

2  Ab'  bey,  a  society  of  persons  of    vote   their    time    to   religion ;    the 
either  sex,  shut  out  from  the  world,    church  used  for  such  a  society. 


174  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Bearing  tribute l  to  the  river — 
Little  streams,  I  love  you  ever. 

2.  Summer  music  is  there  flowing — 
Flowering  plants  in  them  are  growing  ^ 
Happy  life  is  in  them  all, 
Creatures  innocent  and  small ; 

Little  birds  come  down  to  drink, 
Fearless  of  their  leafy  brink ; 
Noble  trees  beside  them  grow, 
Glooming  them  with  branches  low ; 
And  between,  the  sunshine,  glancing, 
In  their  little  waves,  is  dancing. 

3.  Little  streams  have  flowers  a  many, 
Beautiful  and  fair  as  any ; 
Typha  strong,  and  green  bur-reed ; 
Willow-herb,  with  cotton-seed ; 
Arrow-head,  with  eye  of  jet ; 

And  the  water- violet. 
There  the  flowering-rush  you  meet, 
And  the  plumy  meadow-sweet ; 
And,  in  places  deep  and  stilly, 
Marble-like,  the  water-lily. 

4.  Little  streams,  their  voices  cheery, 
Sound  forth  welcomes  to  the  weary ; 
Flowing  on  from  day  to  day, 
"Without  stint  and  without  stay  2 
Here,  upon  their  flowery  bank, 

In  the  old  time  pilgrims  drank — 

Here  have  seen,  as  now,  pass  by, 

King-fisher,  and  dragon-fly ; 

Those  bright  things  that  have  their  dwelling, 

Where  the  little  streams  are  welling. 

5.  Down  in  valleys  green  and  lowly, 
Murmuring  not  and  gliding  slowly ; 

•  Trib'  ute,  something  furnished    which  is  due  or  deserved ;  that  which 
as  a  mark  of  aid  received,  or  as  that    enlarges  or  forms  a  part  of. 


THE    WIND    AND    THE    STREAM,  175 

Up  in  mountain-hollows  wild, 

Fretting  like  a  peevish  child ; 

Through  the  hamlet,  where  all  day 

In  their  waves  the  children  play ; 

Running  west,  or  running  east, 

Doing  good  to  man  and  beast — 

Always  giving,  weary  never, 

Little  streams,  I  love  you  ever. 

Mary  Howrra 


in. 

77.     THE    WIND    AND    THE    STREAM. 

A  BROOK  came  stealing  from  the  ground ; 
You  scarcely  saw  its  silvery  gleam 
Among  the  herbs  that  hung  around l 

The  borders  of  that  winding  stream, 
The  pretty  stream,  the  placid2  stream, 
The  softly3  gliding,  bashful  stream. 

2.  A  breeze  came  wandering  from  the  sky, 

Light  as  the  whispers  of  a  dream ; 
He  put  the  6'erhanging  grasses  by, 

And  softly  stooped  to  kiss  the  stream, 
The  pretty  stream,  the  flattered4  stream, 
The  shy,  yet  unreluctant5  stream. 

3.  The  water,  as  the  wind  passed  o'er, 

Shot  upward  many  a  glancing  beam, 
Dimpled6  and  quivered  more  and  more, 

And  tripped  along,  a  livelier  stream. 
The  flattered  stream,  the  simpering7  stream, 
The  fond,  delighted,  silly  stream, 

1  Around,  (a  round'),  Note  1,  p.  23.        6  Unv  re  luc'  tant,  not  much  op 

2  Plac'  id,    pleased  ;    contented  ;  posed  in  heart ;  willing, 
unruffled ;  quiet.  "Dimpled,    (dfm'pld),    formed 

3  Softly,  (soft'  II),  Note  2,  p.  16.  dimples  ;   sunk  into  depressions  or 
,   4  Flat'  tered,  soothed  by  praise  little  irregularities. 

or  insincere  attentions  ;  pleased  with        7  Sim'  per  ing,  smiling  in  a  con. 
false  hopes.  ceited,  affected,  or  silly  manner. 


176  NATIONAL    THIKD    READER 

4.  Away  the  airy  wanderer  flew 

To  where  the  fields  with  blossoms  teem,1 
To  sparkling  springs  and  rivers  blue, 

And  left  alone  that  little  stream, 
The  flattered  stream,  the  cheated  stream. 
The  sad,  forsaken,  lonely  stream. 

6.  That  careless  wind  came  never  back ; 
He  wanders  yet  the  fields  I  deem, 
But,  on  its  melancholy 2  track, 

Complaining  went  that  little  stream, 
The  cheated  stream,  the  hopeless  stream, 
The  ever-murmuring,  mourning  stream. 

William  Cdllen  Bryast. 

IV. 

78.     THE    BIRD    AND    THE    FOUNTAIN. 

1. 

THEEE  was  once  a  little  fountain  that  flowed  away  unseen, 
In  the  bosom  of  a  mountain,  where  man  had  never  been ; 
Yet  on  it  wandered  brightly,  with  a  pretty  bubbling  sound, 
Whilst  its  waters  sprinkled  lightly  the  plants  that  grew  around 

2. 

But  one  evening,  at  the  "  gloaming," 3  a  swallow,  pert  and  vain, 
From  far  distant  countries  roaming,  came  soaring  o'er  the  plain ; 
And,  staying  by  the  mountain,  to  rest  his  weary  wing, 
To  that  pretty  little  fountain  he  thus  began  to  sing  : 

3. 

"  Poor  humble  thing,  and  lowly,  confined  to  one  lone  spot, 
Condemned  to  suffer  slowly  thy  solitary  lot ! 
Oh !  had  you  seen  the  bowers  o'er  which  I've  lately  flown, 
How  poor  you'd  think  the  flowers  that  blossom  here  alone ! 

4. 

*'  For  there,  mid  scenes  of  splendor,4  a  fountain's  life  should  run, 
And  all  its  sweetness  render  beneath  an  Eastern  sun  ; 

i  Teem,  to  be  full  of.  *  Gloam'  ing,  twilight ;  dusk. 

*  Mel'  an  chol'  y,   low-spirited  ;  Splen'  dor,  great    brightness*; 

sad  ;  unhappy.  great  show  of  richness. 


WHO    IS  GREATEST.  177 

Tliere  should  your  cooling  waters,  in  fragrance  and  perfume,1 
Descend  to  bless  the  daughters  of  Oriental2  bloom," 

5. 

The  little  fountain  listen'd,  and,  for  a  moment's  space, 
Perhaps  less  brightly  glisten'd 3  in  her  lonely  hiding-place  : 
Perchance  the  swallow's  measure 4  a  passing  shadow  threw 
On  every  simple  pleasure  her  humble  spirit  knew. 

6. 
And  soon  that  pretty  fountain,  once  happy  and  content, 
Perchance  had  scorned  the  mountain  where  all  her  lif e  was  speni^ 
Had  not  a  thirsty  flower  just  caught  her  sparkling  eye, 
Who,  but  for  her  sweet  shower,  must  pine  away  and  die. 

7. 
Oh,  then  she  said,  "  Pert  stranger,  I  do  not  envy  thee, 
Though  o'er  those  scenes  a  ranger,  which  I  may  never  see  ; 
Since  in  my  quiet  flowing  I've  joys  to  thee  unknown, 
The  bliss 5  of  bliss  bestowing, — the  sweetest  ever  known  1" 

8. 
She  said  ;  and  soft  reclining  within  her  crystal  bed, 
She  kissed  that  flow'ret  pining,  and  raised  its  drooping  head. 
The  swallow  and  his  story  were  soon  forgotten  quite, 
For  his  was  fading  glory,  and  hers  enduring  light ! 

Charlotte  Young. 


SECTION    XVI. 
i. 

79.     WHO    IS    GREATEST. 
PAET  FIRST. 

THOMAS.  I  do  not  see  the  use  of  it,  any  how ! 
EUen.  The  use  of  what  ?  my  dear  little  brother. 
Tho.  Why,  the  use  of  getting  all  these  lessons. 

1  Perfume',  the  odor  or  scent  that  a  Glistened,  (glis' nd),  sparkled 
comes  from  sweet-smelling  substan-  or  shone  ;  shone  with  a  mild,  sub 
ces ;  sweetness  of  smell.  dued  and  irregular  luster. 

2  O  ri  ent'  al,   pertaining  to  the        4  Measure,  (mez'  y6r),  song, 
orient  or  east ;  eastern.  6  Bliss,  the  greatest  kappiiies?. 


178  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

John.  He's  always  talking  in  that  way,  sister ;  but  I  tell 
him  that  to  learn  is  the  way  to  become  a  great  man. 

EL  A  great  man  ? 

John.  Yes,  a  great  man. 

El.  What  is  a  great  man,  John  ? 

John.  Men  of  learning  are  great  men,  and  so  are  states- 
men 1  and  heroes.2 

El.  Why  are  they  great  men  ? 

John.  Because  they  know  more  and  can  do  more  than 
other  people. 

El.  And  that  makes  them  great  ? 

John.  Yes. 

El.  If  that  is  all  that  makes  greatness,  I  would  ask,  wifti 
Thomas,  what  is  the  use  of  studying  to  be  great  ? 

John.  Sister !  how  can  you  talk  so  !  Is  it  nothing  to  be 
as  great  as  Caesar,3  Bonaparte,4  Columbus,5  or  Newton  ? 6 

EL  What  made  them  great,  John  ? 

John.  They  were  great  because  they  could  do  more  than 
others,  as  I  have  just  said. 

EL  I  have  seen  a  very  different  description  of  greatness, 
and,  from  the  source  whence  it  came,  I  am  inclined  to  be- 
lieve, a  much  truer  one. 

John.  Where  did  you  see  it,  sister  ? 

EL  I  saw  it  in  the  Bible. 

John.  I  never  saw  a  description  of  greatness  there,  that 
I  now  remember. 

EL  But  there  is  one,  and  it  is  in  these  words — "And 

1  States'  men,  men  employed  in  peror  of   the   French,  one  of  the 

public  affairs  ;  men  skilled  in  the  arts  greatest  of  warriors  and  statesmen, 

of  government.  was  born  on  the  5th  of  February; 

a  He' roes  great  warriors  ;  brave  1768,  and  died  May  5th,  1821 

and  ready  men  in  danger.  *  Christopher    Columbus,    the 

8  Caesar,  (se'  zar),  a  most  remark-  discoverer    of    America,     born     in 

able  Roman  warrior,  statesman,  and  Genoa,  Italy,  about  1435,  and  died 

man  of  letters,  was  born  B.C.  100,  at  Valladolid,  Spain,  May  20,  1506. 

and  died  by  the  hands  of  assassins,  6  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  the  great 

in  the  Senate  House,  on  the  15th  of  est  of  philosophers  and  mathemati 

March,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year  of  his  cians,   was  born    at    Lincolnshire, 

age  England,  December  25th.  1642.    He 

'  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  first  em  died  in  1727 


WHO    IS    GREATEST.  17$ 

whosoever  will  be  chief  among  you,  let  him  be  your  ser- 
vant."    Can  you  understand  that  ? 

John,  I  can't  understand  why  you  should  call  that  a  des- 
cription of  greatness. 

EL  It  certainly  is.  To  be  the  chief  of  all,  is  to  be  the 
greatest  of  all. 

John.  But  how  can  any  one  be  the  chief  of  all,  and  je*i 
the  servant  of  all  ?  I  have  often  read  that  verse  in  the 
Bible,  but  never  clearly  understood  it ;  and  now  it  sounds 
stranger  than  ever.  Servants  are  the  lowest  and  humblest 
of  all — not  the  greatest,  nor  the  chief.  I  wish  you  would 
explain  it  to  me,  sister. 

EL  It  means,  if  I  understand  it,  that  if  we  would  become 
truly  great,  we  must  do  good  to  all.     "We  must  serve  them. 

I  remember  once  hearing  father  say,  that  the  greatest 
men  in  the  world  are  those  who  have  rendered  the  world 
most  service.  Under  this  view,  we  might  call  Newton  and 
Columbus,  whom  you  have  mentioned,  great  men ;  but  I 
should  doubt  the  claims  of  Caesar  and  Bonaparte  to  that  title. 

John.  If  you  do  not  call  them  great  men,  sister,  what  do 
you  call  them  ? 

EL  They  were  ambitious  men ;  men  who  loved  them- 
selves so  much  better  than  they  loved  their  fellows,  that  to 
gain  the  distinction  they  coveted,1  they  would  willingly  have 
spread  death  and  destruction,  from  one  end  of  the  world  to 
the  other.  How  different  is  the  description  of  their  char- 
acters* from  that  of  the  great  man  that  I  have  quoted  from 
the  Bible ! 

n. 

80.     AVHO    IS    GREATEST. 
PART  SECOND. 

JOHN.  I  can't  exactly  understand  this,  sister.  The  ser- 
vant of  all,  the  greatest  of  all,  sounds  very  strange. 
At  that  rate,  Sally,  our  cook,  is  greater  than  any  of  us. 
She  is  the  servant  of  all  in  the  house. 

1  Coveted,  (kftv'  et  ed),  wished  for  with  eagerness  ;  greatly  longed  for. 


180  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Elkn.  Who  renders  all  the  rest  the  greatest  service? 
Does  Sally  ? 

John.  No ;  I  do  not  think  that  she  does. 

El.  Well,  who  does  ?  Depend  upon  it,  brother,  you  will 
discover,  when  you  fix  upon  that  one,  that  you  have  found 
the  greatest  in  our  house.  Now,  think  whose  service  is  of 
most  importance  ?    Whose  loss  would  be  most  severely 

*3lt? 

John.  The  loss  of  our  father. 

EL  Yes.  Our  father  is  the  servant  of  all,  and  the  great- 
est of  all.  He  supplies  the  wants  of  all  in  the  house,  and 
brings  us  all  our  comforts.  Sally  cooks  for  us  our  food ; 
but  how  little  does  she  do  for  us,  compared  wifli  what  our 
father  and  mother  do !  [Enter  Mother. 

Mother.  You  look  serious,  my  children.  What  are  you 
talking  about? 

John.  Just  before  you  came  in,  mother,  we  were  talking 
about  greatness. 

Mo.  Ah !  Well,  have  you  found  out  in  what  greatness 
consists  ? 

John.  Ellen  says  that  the  servant  of  all  is  the  greatest  of  all. 

Mo.  Does  she,  indeed  !  And  has  she  convinced  you  that 
she  is  right  ? 

John.  I  can't  say  just  yes,  nor  can  I  say  no  ;  but  I  sup- 
pose she  may  be  right. 

Mo.  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,  John.     She  has  the  best  pos 
sible  authority  on  her  side — the  Bible. 

John.  So  it  appears.     But  it  makes  me  feel  discouraged. 

Mo.  Why? 

John.  I  have  always  thought  that  I  would  like  to  be  a 
great  man ;  and  the  hope  of  becoming  great  has  made  me 
study  harder  than  any  thing  else. 

Mo.  How,  great,  my  son  ? 

John.  Great  like  the  warriors,  statesmen,  and  men  of 
science  who  have  distinguished  themselves  in  all  ages. 

Mo.  For  the  good  they  have  done  ? 

John.  No  ;  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  thought  of  the 
good.     It  is  just  this,  that  makes  me  feel  discouraged.     If 


RAIN-MAKING.  181 

true  greatness  comes  only  to  those  who  seek  to  serve  others, 
in  order  to  do  them  good,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  be  great. 

Mo.  Why? 

John.  I  could  study  and  work  hard  in  the  hope  of  becom- 
ing a  distinguished  man ;  but  not  that  I  might  become, 
simply,  a  useful  man. 

Mo.  My  dear  boy,  your  error  is  the  error  of  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands,  who  have  gone  before  you.  It  is 
an  error  that  has  caused  the  world  much  sorrow,  and  will 
cause  it  much  more.  You  must  try  very  hard  to  get  away 
from  it,  or  it  will  bring  you  years  of  unhappiness. 

No  one  is  truly  great  but  he  who  is  truly  good.  God  is 
the  greatest  of  all,  and  he  is  Goodness  itself.  He  seeks 
not  his  own  glory,  but  the  good  of  his  creatures,  making 
his  sun  to  shine  upon  the  evil  and  the  good,  and  sending 
his  rain  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust.  If  we  would  be 
great,  we  must  be  like  him, — there  is  no  other  way. 

Altered  from  Arthur. 

III. 
81.    RAIN-MAKING.1 

Medical  Doctor  and  Rain  Doctor. 

MEDICAL  DOCTOR.  Hail,  friend!  How  very  many 
medicines  you  have  about  you  this  morning !  Why, 
you  have  every  medicine  in  the  country  here. 

Rain  Doctor.  Very  true,  my  friend ;  and  I  am  sure  I  ought, 
for  the  whole  country  needs  the  rain  which  I  am  making. 

Med.  Dr.  So  you  really  believe  that  you  can  command 
the  clouds  ?     I  think  that  can  be  done  by  God  alone. 

Rain  Dr.  We  both  believe  the  very  same  thing.  It  is 
God  that  makes  the  rain,  but  I  pray  to  him  by  means  of 
these  medicines  ;  and,  the  rain  coming,  of  course  it  is  then 

Dr    Livingstone,   who  was  a  hidden  charm,  or  magic  power,  and 

missionary  for  sixteen  years  in  the  that  their  rain-doctors  have  certain 

interior  of    Africa,   says    that    the  medicines  which  may  be  made  to 

Bakwains    and    some    other  tribes  charm  the  clouds  and  cause  them  to 

believe  that  all  medicines  act  by  a  pour  out  abundant  rain 


182  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

mine.  It  was  I  who  made  it  for  the  Bakwains,  for  many 
years,  when  they  were  at  Shokua'ne  ;  through  my  wisdom, 
too,  their  women  became  fat  and  shining.  Ask  them ;  they 
will  tell  you  the  same  as  I  do. 

Med.  Dr.  But  we  are  distinctly  told,  in  the  parting  words 
of  our  Saviour,  that  we  can  pray  to  God  acceptably  in  his 
name  alone,  and  not  by  the  means  of  medicines. 

Bain  Dr.  Truly !  but  God  told  us  differently.  He  made 
black  men  first,  and  did  not  love  us  as  he  did  the  white 
men.  He  made  you  beautiful,  and  gave  you  clothing,  and 
guns,  and  gunpowder,  and  horses,  and  wagons,  and  many 
other  things  about  which  we  know  nothing.1  But  toward 
us  he  had  no  heart.  He  gave  us  nothing  except  cattle  and 
rain-making  ;  and  he  did  not  give  us  hearts  like  yours. 

"We  never  love  each  other.  Other  tribes  place  medicines 
about  our  country  to  prevent  the  rain,  so  that  we  may  be 
dispersed2  by  hunger,  and  go  to  them,  and  increase  their 
power.  We  must  dissolve  their  charms  by  our  medicines. 
God  has  given  us  one  little  thing  which  you  know  nothing 
of.  He  has  given  us  the  knowledge  of  certain  medicines 
by  which  we  can  make  rain.  We  do  not  despise  those 
things  which  you  possess,  though  we  are  ignorant  of  them. 
We  don't  understand  your  book,  yet  we  don't  despise  it. 
You  ought  not  to  despise  our  little  knowledge,  though  you 
are  ignorant  of  it. 

Med.  Dr.  I  don't  despise  what  I  am  ignorant  of ;  I  only 
think  you  are  mistaken  in  saying  that  you  have  medicine 
which  can  influence  the  rain  at  all. 

Bain  Dr.  That's  just  the  way  people  speak  when  they 
talk  on  a  subject  of  which  they  have  no  knowledge.  When 
we  first  opened  our  eyes,  we  found  our  forefathers  making 
rain,  and  we  followed  in  their  footsteps.  You,  who  send  to 
Kuru'man  for  corn,  and  irrigate2  your  garden,  may  do 
without  rain  ;  we  can  not  manage  in  that  way. 

If  we  had  no  rain,  the  cattle  would  have  no  pasture,  the 

1  Nothing,  (nuth'  ing.)  3  Ir'  ri  gate,  to  water  or  wet  land 

3  Dispersed,   (dis  p§rst'),  driven    by  causing  a  stream  to  flow  upon 
asunder;  scattered:  separated  and  over  it 


RAIN-MAKING.  183 

cows  give  no  milk,  our  children  become  lean  and  die,  our 
wives  run  away  to  other  tribes  who  do  make  rain  and  have 
corn,  and  the  whole  tribe  become  dispersed  and  lost ;  our 
fire  would  go  out. 

Med.  Dr.  I  quite  agree  with  you  as  to  the  value  of  the 
rain ;  but  could  you  make  it  rain  on  one  spot  and  not  on 
another  ? 

Bain  Dr.  I  wouldn't  think  of  trying.  I  like  to  see  the 
whole  country  green,  and  all  the  people  glad ;  the  women 
clapping  their  hands,  and  giving  me  their  ornaments  for 
thankfulness,  and  lullilooing  for  joy. 

Med.  Dr.  I  think  you  deceive  both  them  and  yourself. 
Sou  can  not  charm  the  clouds  by  medicines.  You  wait  till 
you  see  the  clouds  come,  then  you  use  your  medicines,  and 
take  the  credit  which  belongs  to  God  only. 

Bain  Dr.  I  use  my  medicines,  and  you  employ  yours ; 
we  are  both  doctors,  and  doctors  are  not  deceivers.  You 
give  a  patient  medicine  :  sometimes  God  is  pleased  to  heal 
him  by  means  of  your  medicine,  sometimes  not — he  dies. 
When  he  is  cured,  you  take  the  credit  of  what  God  does. 

I  do  the  same.  Sometimes  God  grants  us  rain,  some- 
times not.  "When  he  does,  we  take  the  credit  of  the  charm. 
When  a  patient  dies,  you  don't  give  up  trust  in  your  medi- 
cine, neither  do  I  when  rain  fails.  If  you  wish  me  to  leave 
off  my  medicines,  why  continue  your  own  ? 

Med.  Dr.  I  give  medicines  to  living  creatures  within  my 
reach,  and  can  see  the  effects,  though  no  cure  follows :  you 
pretend  to  charm  the  clouds,  which  are  so  far  above  us 
that  your  medicines  never  reach  them.  The  clouds  usually 
lie  in  one  direction,  and  your  smoke  goes  in  another.  God 
alone  can  command  the  clouds.  Only  try  and  wait 
patiently :  God  will  give  us  rain  without  your  medicines, 

Altered  from  Liyxngstoue, 


184  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER. 

IV 

82.     THE    EVIL    ADVISER. 

PART  FIRST. 

Thomas,    Frank,    and   Father. 

THOMAS   What's  your  hurry,  Frank  ?  stop  a  minute. 
Frank   I  can't  stay!  Father  sent  me  with  this  letter 
to  the  railroad  depot.1 

Th.  Well,  the  depot  won't  run  away. 

Fr.  But  the  cars  will ;  there's  a  gentleman  going  to  New 
York,  who  promised  to  carry  this  letter,  and  there's  money 
in  it  for  my  brother. 

Th.  But  don't  you  see  it's  but  ten  minutes  past  three ; 
and  the  cars  don't  start  till  four,  and  you  have  time  enough 
for  what  I  wuxi  of  you. 

Ft,  Well,  what  do  you  want  ? 

Th.  Just  step  in  here  to  see  the  wild  beasts  with  me : 
you  have  never  been,  have  you  ? 

Fr.  No  :  I'll  go  when  I  come  back  from  my  errand. 

Th.  No,  you  can't ;  for  then  it  will  be  time  to  go  to  the 
writing-master. 

Fr.  Then  I'll  go  with  you  to-morrow. 

Th.  No,  you  can't ;  for  this  is  the  last  day  of  the  exhibition. 

Fr.  Is  it  ?  that's  too  bad !  I  did  not  know  there  were  any 
beasts  in  town  till  to-day.     How  many  are  there  ? 

Th.  Ever  so  many;  there's  a  polar2  bear,  and  an  ele- 
phant, and  a  most  beautiful  rhinoceros — 3 

Fr.  I  have  seen  a  rhinoceros,  and  he  is  the  ugliest  crea- 
ture that  ever  was ;  his  skin  sets  as  loosely  upon  him  as  a 
sailor's  trowsers. 

Th.  Well,  there's  a  royal  tiger — 

Fr.  Is  there  ?  I  never  saw  a  royal  tiger ! 

Th.  Oh  I   he's  a  beauty — all  yellow,  and  covered  with 

1  Depot,  (de  p6')  any  place  of  de-  large,  powerful,  very  thick-skinned 

posit  for  the  storing  or  safe  keeping  animal,  nearly  related  to  the  ele- 

of  goods  ;  a  railway  station.  phant,  and  known  by  having  one  or 

a  Po'  lar,  pertaining  to,  or  coming  two  very  strong    horns  upon  the 

from  one  of  the  poles  of  the  earth.  nose.     The  Indian  rhinoceros  hae 

'  Bhinoceros.    ( rl  nos'  e  ros ),   a  but  one  horn  •  and  the  African,  two. 


THE    EVIL    ADVISER.  185 

black  stripes.  Then  there  are  little  leopards  playing  just 
like  kittens ;  and — There !  there !  do  yon  hear  that  ?  That's 
the  lion  roaring ! 

Fr.  Whew !  what  a  loud  noise  he  makes !  How  long 
will  it  take  to  see  them  all  ? 

Th.  Oh!  not  half  an  hour;  and  it  won't  take  you  five 
minutes  to  go  down  to  the  depot  afterwards,  if  you  run  like 
a  good  fellow. 

Fr.  Are  there  any  monkeys  ? 

Th.  Plenty  of  them !  the  funniest  monkeys  you  ever  saw ; 
they  make  all  sorts  of  faces. 

Ft.  Well — I  don't  know — what  if  I  should  be  too  late 
for  the  cars  ? 

Th.  No  danger  of  that,  I  tell  you ;  the  town  clock  up 
there  is  too  fast ;  it's  all  out  of  order ;  and,  besides,  you 
might  see  half  the  beasts  while  you  are  standing  here  think- 
ing about  it — looking  up  the  street  and  down  the  street. 

Fr.  Well,  come  along,  then.     Where's  your  money. 

Th.  Oh !  I  don't  pay !  I  got  acquainted  with  the  door- 
keeper after  I  had  been  in  twice,  and  now  he  lets  me  in  for 
nothing  every  time  I  bring  a  fellow  that  does  pay. 

Fr.  Oh,  ho !  well,  I  suppose  it's  a  quarter  of  a  dollar, 
and  I  have  one  somewhere  in  my  pockets.  [Fulling  out  his 
handkerchief  to  search  for  the  money,  drops  the  letter.']  Ah ! 
here  it  is !  Come,  Thomas !  no  time  to  be  lost.  Mind  you 
do  not  let  me  stay  too  long. 

[They  go  into  the  exhibition  booth.  Frank's  father, 
passing  along,  picks  up  the  letter,  examines  it,  holes 
round  for  Frank,  and  passes  hastily  away.] 

Y. 

83.     THE    EVIL    ADVISER 

TAKT  SECOND. 

[After  some  time  the  boys  come  out,] 

THOMAS.   You  did  not  see  half  of  them,  you  were  in 
such  a  hurry  and  worry. 
Frank.  I  know  it.     Are  you  sure  that  clock  is  too  fast, 
Thomas? 


186  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

Th.  I  don't  know — I  suppose  so — the  clocks  are  wrong 
half  the  time. 

Fr.  Why,  you  told  me  it  was  too  fast,  Thomas !  and  now 
I'm  very  sure  that  I  shall  be  too  late !  I  wish  I  hadn't 
gone  in ! 

Th.  Well,  why  don't  you  move,  then?  What  are  you 
rummaging  after  ? 

Fr.  Why,  after  my  letter.  I'm  sure  I  put  it  in  this 
pocket.     What,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  has  become  of  it  ? 

Th.  Look  in  the  other  pocket. 

Fr.  It  isn't  there !  nor  in  my  hat !     What  shall  I  do  ? 

Th.  Why,  you  can't  have  lost  it,  can  you  ? 

Fr.  I  have  lost  it ;  I  am  as  sure  as  can  be  I  had  it  in  this 
very  pocket  just  before  I  met  you ;  and  now  it's  gone ! 

Th.  May  be  somebody  stole  it  in  the  crowd. 

Fr.  That's  comfort !  There  was  ever  so  much  money  in 
it,  for  I  heard  father  talking  about  it  at  dinner-time. 

Th.  Oh !  I'U  tell  you  what's  become  of  it. 

Fr.  What?    What? 

Th.  Why,  I  guess  the  elephant  took  it  out  of  your  pocket ! 

Fr.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  stand  there  laughing, 
after  you  have  got  me  into  such  a  scrape  !  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  go  in  again  and  look  all  round. 

Th.  They  won't  let  you  in  again,  unless  you  pay. 

Fr.  Oh,  Thomas !  what  will  my  father  say  to  me  ?  Where 
shall  I  look?  I  wish  I  had  never  heard  of  the  beasts. 
There  was  no  comfort  in  looking  at  them,  for  I  was  thinking 
of  the  cars  all  the  time ;  and  now  my  letter  is  lost,  and  brother 
Henry  s  money,  and  all ;  and  what  will  father  do  to  me  ? 

Th.  What's  the  use  of  telling  him  any  thing  about  it  ? 
He'll  never  know  whether  the  letter  went  or  not,  if  you 
don't  say  a  word. 

Fr.  Yes.  he  will ;  my  brother  will  write  to  inquire  for  the 
money. 

Th.  Well,  and  can't  you  say  you  gave  the  letter  to  the 
gentleman  ? 

Fr.  No,  Thomas ;  I  can't  do  that  I  can't  tell  a  lie — 
and,  above  all,  to  my  father. 


THE    EVIL    ADVISER.  187 

Th.  The  more  fool  you !  But  you  needn't  look  so  sad 
about  it.  There's  your  father  coming  now.  Run  and  tell 
him,  quick,  and  get  a  whipping ! 

Fr.  He  will  punish  me,  Thomas;  that  he  will.  What 
shall  I  do?  . 

Th.  Take  my  advice.  I'll  tell  a  fib  for  you,  and  do  you 
hold  to  it. 

Fr.  I  never  told  a  lie  in  my  life,  Thomas ! 

Th.  Then  it's  high  time  you  did :  you'll  have  to  tell  a 
great  many  before  you  die. 

Fr.  I  don't  believe  that. 

Th.  Well,  here's  your  father.  Now  see  how  I'll  get  yon 
out  of  the  scrape.  That's  right !  keep  staring  up  at  the 
hand-bill  on  the  wall. 

[Enter  Father  :  Frank  stares  at  the  hand-billJ 

Father.  Why,  Frank,  you  have  run  yourself  out  of  breath. 
I  trust  that  letter  will  go  safely,  for  your  brother  wants  the 
money  very  much.      ' 

Th.  Frank  was  just  in  time,  sir.  The  cars  were  just 
starting. 

Fath.  Oh !  you  went  with  him,  did  you  ? 

Th.  Yes,  sir ;  and  I  saw  the  gentleman  put  the  letter  in  his 
pocket-book  very  carefully.     I  fancy  it  will  go  safe  enough. 

Fath.  I  fancy  it  will.  What  is  in  that  hand-bill,  Frank, 
that  interests  you  so  much. 

Fr.  I  don't  know,  sir. 

Fath.  What's  the  matter,  my  boy  ? 

Fr.  I  can't  stand  it,  father !  I  can't  stand  it !  I  had 
rather  take  ten  whippings,  Thomas,  any  day,  than — than — 

Fath.  Ho,  ho  !  what  is  all  this  ? 

Th.  You  are  a  fool,  Frank. 

Fr.  I  know  I  am  a  fool ;  but  I  can't  tell  a  lie.  I  lost  the 
Jetter,  father.  I  went  to  see  the  wild  beasts  wifh  Thomas, 
and  lost  the  letter ! 

Fath.  And  this  precious l  fellow  wanted  you  to  deceive 
me  about  it, — did  he  ? 

1  Precious,  (presh'  us),  of  great  pressing  the  opposite  meaning,  for 
value  or  worth, — here  used,  as  ex-    worthless. 


188  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER. 

Th.  Why,  I  thought— 

Faih.  Frank !  I  would  willingly  lose  a  dozen  letters,  with 
ten  times  as  much  money  in  them,  for  the  pleasure  of  find- 
ing you  resist  the  temptation !  Come  here,  my  boy,  and 
leave  off  crying.  I  found  the  letter,  and  carried  it  myself 
to  the  depot  in  time  for  the  cars.  I  can  forgive  your  folly, 
since  it  has  not  ended  in  wickedness ;  but  remember  one 
thing ;  I  shall  not  forgive  you,  if,  henceforward,  you  asso- 
ciate !  with  this  unprincipled  boy. 

[To  Thomas.]  Begone,  sir!  I  am  glad  to  see  shame  on 
your  face.  Had  my  boy  taken  your  advice,  he,  too,  would 
have  been  at  this  moment  a  detected,  conscience-smitten, 
despised  liar ;  but  he  is  holding  up  his  head,  and  his  heart 
is  light  in  his  bosom.  You  are  the  very  boy,  Thomas,  whom 
I  was  requested  to  take  into  my  employment ;  but  I  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  you.     Never  come  near  my  son  again ! 

Goodrich. 


SECTION    XVII. 
i. 

84.     HONESTY    THE    BEST    POLICY. 

A  FABMEB  called  on  Earl  Fitzwilliam  to  represent 
lJL  that  his  crop  of  wheat  had  been  seriously  injured  in 
a  field  adjoining  a  certain  wood,  where  his  friends  had, 
during  the  winter,  frequently  met  to  hunt.  He  stated  that 
the  young  wheat  had  been  so  cut  up  and  destroyed,  that  in 
some  parts  he  could  not  hope  for  any  produce.2 

2.  "Well,  my  friend,"  said  his  lordship,  "I  am  aware3 
that  we  have  frequently  met  in  that  field,  and  that  we  have 
done  considerable  injury ;  and,  if  you  can  procure  an  esti- 
mate of  the  loss  you  have  sustained,  I  will  repay  you." 

1  Associate,    (as  s6'  sh!  at),    join  duced,  brought  forth,  or  yielded,— 

or  unite  in  company  as  a  friend  or  especially  hay,  grain,  fruit,  etc. 

companion  ;  keep  company.  3  Aware,  (a  war)  apprised  ,*  in- 

-Prod'  uce,  that  which  is  pro-  formed;  knowing  to  the  fact. 


HONESTY    THE    BEST    POLICY.  189 

3.  The  farmer  replied,  that,  anticipating1  his  lordship's 
consideration 2  and  kindness,  he  had  requested  a  friend  to 
assist  him  in  estimating  the  damage ;  and  they  thought, 
that  as  the  crop  seemed  quite  destroyed,  fifty  dollars  would 
not  more  than  repay  him.  The  earl  immediately  gave  him 
the  money. 

4.  As  the  harvest,  however,  approached,  the  wheat  grew ; 
and  in  those  parts  of  the  field  that  were  trampled,  it  was 
the  strongest  and  most  luxuriant.3  The  farmer  went  again 
to  his  lordship,  and  being  introduced,  said,  "  I  am  come, 
my  lord,  respecting  the  field  of  wheat  adjoining  such  a 
wood."     He  instantly  recollected  the  circumstances. 

5.  "Well,  my  friend,  did  I  not  allow  you  sufficient  to 
remunerate4  you  for  your  loss?"  "Yes,  my  lord;  1  have 
found  that  I  have  sustained  no  loss  at  all ;  for  where  the 
horses  had  most  cut  up  the  land,  the  crop  is  most  promising, 
and  I  have,  therefore,  brought  the  fifty  dollars  back  again." 
"  Ah !"  exclaimed  the  venerable  earl,  "  this  is  what  I  like ; 
that  is  what  ought  to  be  between  man  and  man." 

6.  He  then  entered  into  conversation  with  the  farmer, 
asking  him  some  questions  about  his  family — how  many 
children  he  had,  &c.  His  lordship  then  went  into  another 
room,  and  returning,  presented  the  farmer  a  check  for  one 
hundred  dollars.  "  Take  care  of  this,  and  when  your  eldest 
son  is  of  age,  present  it  to  him,  and  tell  the  occasion  that 
produced  it." 

7.  We  know  not  what  most  to  admire,  the  benevolence 
or  the  wisdom  displayed  by  this  illustrious 5  man ;  for,  while 
doing  a  noble  act  of  generosity,  he  was  handing  down  a 
lesson  of  integrity6  to  another  generation.7 

1  An  tic'  i  pa  ting,  taking  before-  6 II  lus'  tri  ous,  possessing  luster 

hand;  foreseeing.  or  brightness    marked  by  greatness, 

a  Con  sidv  er  a'  tion,  the  act  of  nobleness,  etc. 

considering ;  attentive  respect.  6Integ'rity,  moral  soundness; 

8  Luxuriant,  (lugz  yd'  r!  ant),  rich  uprightness  ;  honesty, 

or  plenteous  in  growth  ;  abundant.  T  GenN  er  a'  tion,  the  mass  of  be- 

4  Re  mu'  ner  ate,    reward  ;    pay  ings  living  during  one  portion  of 

what  is  equal  in  value  for  any  ex-  time ;  also,  the  usual  time  at  which 

pense,  service,  or  loss.  father  is  followed  by  child. 


190  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

n. 

85.     THE    TRUTHFUL    LITTLE    PERSIAN. 

AMONG  the  Persians  there  is  a  sect1  called  the 
Soils2  and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  saints3  of 
this  sect  was  Abdul  Kadir.4  It  is  related,  that  in  early 
childhood  he  was  smitten  wifh  a  desire  of  devoting  himself 
to  sacred  things,  and  wished  to  go  to  Bagdad5  to  obtain 
knowledge. 

2.  His  mother  gave  her  consent ;  and,  taking  out  eighty 
pieces  of  money,  told  him  that,  as  he  had  a  brother,  half 
of  that  would  be  all  his  inheritance.6  She  made  him  prom- 
ise, solemnly,  when  she  gave  it  to  him,  never  to  tell  a  He ; 
and  then  bade  him  farewell,  exclaiming — "Go,  my  son,  I 
give  thee  to  God ;  we  shall  not  meet  again  till  the  day  of 
judgment !" 

3.  He  went  on,  till  he  came  near  to  Hamadan,7  when  the 
company  with  which  he  was  traveling  was  plundered 8  by 
sixty  horsemen.  One  of  the  robbers  asked  him  what  he 
had  got?  "Forty  pieces  of  money,"  said  Abdul  Kadir, 
"  are  sewed  under  my  garment."  The  fellow  laughed, 
thinking  that  he  was  joking  him.  "  What  have  you  got?" 
said  another.  He  gave  the  same  answer.  When  they  were 
dividing  the  spoil,  he  was  called  to  an  eminence,  where 
their  chief  stood.  "What  property  have  you,  my  little 
fellow?"  said  he. 

4.  "I  have  told  two  of  your  people  already,"  replied  the 
boy.  "I  have  forty  pieces  of  money  sewed  up  carefully  in 
my  clothes."  The  chief  desired  them  to  be  ripped  open, 
and  found  the  money. 

1  Sect,  a  part  cut  off;  hence,  a  noted  city  of  Asiatic  Turkey,  situated 

body  of  persons  who  have  separated  on  both  banks  of  the  Tigris  river, 
from  others   on    account  of   some        6  In  her'  it  ance,  land,  money,  or 

special   belief,   or  set  of   opinions,  other  property  received  as  a  right 

which  they  hold  in  common.-  on  the  death  of  a  parent  or  other 

3  Sofia,  (s6'  fez).  ancestor. 

8  Saints,  holy  or  godly  persons.  7  Hamadan,  (ha  ma  dan'). 

4  Abdul  Kadir,  (ab'  dul-ka'  der).         8  Plun'  dered,  deprived  of  goods 
6  Bagdad,  (bag  dad),  a  large  and    by  force  ;  robbed. 


THE    TRUTHFUL    LITTLE    PERSIAIS 


19i 


5.  "And  how  came  you,"  said  he,  wifh  surprise,  "to 
declare1  so  openly,  what  has  been  so  carefully  hidden?" 
k*  Because,"  Abdul  Kadir  replied,  "  I  will  not  be  false  to 
my  mother,  to  whom  I  have  promised  that  I  will  never  con- 
ceal the  truth.2 

6.  :' Child,"  said  the  robber,  "hast  thou  such  a  sense  of 
duty  to  thy  mother,  at  thy  years,  and  am  I  insensible,3  at 
my  age,  of  the  duty  I  owe  to  my  God?     Give  me  thy  hand, 

1  Declare,  (de  klar),  Note  2,  p.  15.        s  In  sen'  si  ble,   not    conscious; 
1  Truth,  (troth),  Note  4,  p.  1C.  without  interest  in  regard  to. 


192  NATIONAL    TRIRD    READER. 

innocent  boj/'  he  continued,  "that  I  may  swear  repentance1 
upon  it."  He  did  so,  and  his  followers  were  all  alike  struck 
with  the  scene.  "  You  have  been  our  leader  in  guilt,"  said 
they  to  their  chief,  "  be  the  same  in  the  paths  of  virtue ;" 
and  they  instantly,  at  his  order,  made  restitution2  of  the 
epoil,3  and  vowed  repentance  on  the  hand  of  the  boy. 

in. 

86.    TWO    WAYS    OF    TELLING    A    STORY. 
PAKT  FIKST. 

IN  one  of  the  most  populous4  cities  of  New  England,5  a 
few  years  since,  a  party  of  lads,  all  members  of  the 
same  school,  got  up  a  grand  sleigh-ride.  The  sleigh  was  a 
very  large  and  splendid  one,  drawn  by  six  gray  horses. 

2.  On  the  day  following  the  ride,  as  the  teacher  entered 
the  schoolroom,  he  found  his  pupils  in  high  merriment,6  as 
they  chatted  about  the  fun  and  frolic  of  their  excursion.7 
In  answer  to  some  inquiries  which  he  made  about  the 
matter,  one  of  the  lads  volunteered  to  give  an  account  of 
their  trip  and  its  various  incidents. 

3.  As  he  drew  near  the  end  of  his  story,  he  exclaimed : 
"  O,  sir !  there  was  one  little  circumstance  that  I  had  almost 
forgotten.  As  we  were  coming  home,  we  saw  ahead  of  us 
a  queer-looking  affair  in  the  road.  It  proved  to  be  a  rusty 
old  sleigh,  fastened  behind  a  covered  wagon,  proceeding  at 
a  very  slow  rate,  and  taking  up  the  whole  road. 

4.  "  Finding  that  the  owner  was  not  disposed  to  turn  out, 
we  determined  upon  a  volley8  of  snow-balls  and  a  good 

1  Re  pent'  ance,  a  feeling  of  pain,  •*  Pop'  u  ious,  full  of  inhabitants 

sorrow,  or  regret  for  what  one  has  or  people, 

done  or  neglected  to  do  ;  a  change  6  England,  (fng'  gland), 

of  mind  or  course  of  conduct  on  ac-  6  Mer/  ri  ment,     gayety,     with 

count  of  regret  or  being  dissatisfied  laughter  or  noise  ;  noisy  sport, 

with  what  has  taken  place.  7  Excursion,    (eks  keV  shun),    a 

9  Res  ti  tu'  tion,  the  act  of  restor-  short  journey  or  trip  for  pleasure 

Ing  or  giving  back  what  has  been  or  health, 

taken  from  another.  8  Vol'  ley,  a  large  number  thrown 

*  Spoil,  what  is  taken  by  force.  at  one  time. 


TWO    WAYS    OF    TELLING    A    STORY.  193 

hurrah.1  They  produced  the  right  effect,  for  the  crazy 
machine  turned  out  into  the  deep  snow,  and  the  skinny  old 
pony  started  on  a  full  trot. 

5.  "  As  we  passed,  some  one  gave  the  old  jilt  of  a  horse 
a  good  crack,  which  made  him  run  faster  than  he  ever  did 
before,  I'll  warrant.  And  so,  with  another  volley  of  snow- 
balls pitched  into  the  front  of  the  wagon,  and  three  times 
three  cheers,  we  rushed  by. 

6.  "  Wifti  that,  an  old  feU'ow  in  the  wagon,  who  was 
buried  up  under  an  old  hat,  and  who  had  dropped  the  reins, 
bawled  out, '  Why  do  you  frighten  my  horse  ?'  '  Why  don't 
you  turn  out,  then?'  says  the  driver.  So  we  gave  him 
three  rousing  cheers  more.  His  horse  was  frightened  again, 
and  ran  up  against  a  loaded  team,  and,  I  believe,  almost 
capsized 2  the  old  creature — and  so  we  left  him." 

IV. 
87.     TWO    WAYS    OF    TELLING    A    STORY. 

PART  SECOND. 

"  "TTTELL,  boys,"  replied  the  instructor,  "  take  your 
V  V  seats,  and  I  will  take  my  turn  and  tell  you  a  story, 
and  all  about  a  sleigh-ride,  too.  Yesterday  afternoon,  a 
very  venerable 3  old  clergyman  was  on  his  way  from  Boston 
to  Salem,  to  pass  the  residue 4  of  the  winter  at  the  house  of 
his  son.  That  he  might  be  prepared  for  journeying  in  the 
spring,  he  took  with  him  his  wagon,  and  for  the  winter  his 
sleigh,  which  he  fastened  behind  the  wagon. 

2.  "His  sight  and  hearing  were  somewhat  blunted  by 
age,  and  he  was  proceeding  very  slowly  and  quietly ;  for 
his  horse  was  old  and  feeble,  like  his  owner.  His  thoughts 
reverted 5  to  the  scenes  of  his  youth — of  his  manhood,  and 
of  his  riper  years.     Almost  forgetting  himself  in  the  multi- 

1  Hurrah,  (h6  ra'),  a  shout  of  joy,  and  respect  on  account  of  worth  or 
or  triumph,  or  applause.  of  age. 

2  Cap  sized',  upset  or  over-  *  Residue,  (rez  i  du),  that  which 
turned.  is  left  after  a  part  is  taken  or  past- 

3  Ven'er  a  ble,  deserving  of  honor        e  Re  vert'  ed,  turned  back. 

9 


194  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

tude  of  his  thoughts,  he  was  suddenly  disturbed,  and  even 
terrified,1  by  loud  hurrahs '  from  behind,  and  by  a  furious 
pelting  and  clattering  of  balls  of  snow  and  ice  upon  the 
top  of  his  wagon. 

3.  "  In  his  trepidation2  he  dropped  his  reins,  and  as  his 
aged  and  feeble  hands  were  quite  benumbed  with  the  cold, 
he  could  not  gather  them  up,  and  his  horse  began  to  run 
away.  In  the  midst  of  the  old  man's  trouble,  there  rushed 
by  him,  with  loud  shouts,  a  large  party  of  boys,  in  a  sleigh 
drawn  by  six  horses.  '  Turn  out !  turn  out,  old  fellow ! — 
Give  us  the  road,  old  boy ! — What  will  you  take  for  your 
pony,  old  daddy  ? — Go  it,  frozen-nose ! — "What's  the  price 
of  oats  ?' — were  the  various  cries  that  met  his  ear. 

4.  "  '  Pray  do  not  frighten  my  horse  !'  exclaimed  the  in- 
firm3 driver.  '  Turn  out,  then !  turn  out !'  was  the  answer, 
which  was  followed  by  repeated  cracks  and  blows  from  the 
long  whip  of  the  '  grand  sleigh,'  with  showers  of  snow-balls, 
and  three  tremendous 4  hurrahs  from  the  boys  who  were  in  it. 

5.  "The  terror  of  the  old  man  and  his  horse  was  in- 
creased, and  the  latter  ran  away  with  him,  to  the  imminent 5 
danger  of  his  life.  He  contrived,  however,  to  secure  his 
reins,  and  to  stop  his  horse  just  in  season  to  prevent  his 
being  dashed  against  a  loaded  team. 

6.  "  A  short  distance  brought  him  to  his  journey's  end, 
the  house  of  his  son.  His  old  horse  was  comfortably 
housed 6  and  fed,  and  he  himself  abundantly  provided  for. 
That  son,  boys,  is  your  instructor ;  and  that  old  fCttutv,  and 
old  boy  (who  did  not  turn  out  for  you,  but  who  would  gladly 
have  given  you  the  whole  road,  had  he  heard  your  ap- 
proach), that  old  daddy  and  old  frozen-nose,  was  your  mas- 
ter's father !" 

7.  Some  of  the  boys  buried  their  heads  behind  their 

1  Ter'  ri  fied,  alarmed  or  shocked  terror  or  fear ;  such  as  may  astonish 
with  fear ;  frightened.  or  frighten  by  its  force,  loudness,  etc. 

2  TrepN  i  da'  tion,  a  trembling  of  6  Im'  mi  nent,  threatening  imme- 
the  limbs  from  fear.  diately  to  fall  or  take  place ;  very 

8  Infirm,   (in  ferm'),   not   firm   or    near  at  hand, 
sound  ;  weak  ;  feeble.  6  Housed,  (houzd),  covered  from 

4  Tre  men'  dous.  fitted  to  awaken    stormy  weather ;  sheltered. 


A    MAN    IS    A    MAN  195 

desks ,  some  cried ;  and  many  hastened  to  the  teacher  with 
apologies  and  regrets  without  end.  All  were  freely  par- 
doned, but  were  cautioned  that  they  should  be  more  civil, 
for  the  future,  to  inoffensive  travelers,  and  more  respectful 
to  the  aged  and  infirm.  H.  K.  Oliver 

V. 

88.     A    MAN    IS    A    MAN. 

ONE  day  I  was  guilty  of  an  action  which,  to  say  the  least, 
was  in  very  bad  taste.  An  old  man,  in  a  very  poor, 
but  not  dirty  dress,  came  into  the  office  with  a  basket  full 
of  oranges,  which  he  was  retailing  '  about  the  village. 

2.  When  he  desired  me  to  purchase  some,  I  answered 
him  rather  roughly  and  slightingly,2  and  turned  again  to 
my  books ;  not,  however,  without  observing  that  my  uncle 
raised  his  eyebrows  a  little  at  my  want  of  good  manners. 

:*;  When  the  old  orange  peddler  had  gone  out,  my  uncle 
turned  round,  and  looking  me  full  in  the  face,  said,  "  My 
boy,  you  appear  to  have  forgotten  an  old  maxim,3  handed 
down  in  your  family  time  out  of  mind.  It  is  this :  *  A  man 
is  a  man? 

4.  "  Every  person,  however  humble  his  station  or  calling, 
is  entitled  to  your  respect  as  a  man,  and  so  long  as  you  are 
ignorant  of  his  having  forfeited 4  all  claim  to  consideration 
by  criminal,  or  scandalously 5  immoral 6  behavior,  you  should 
treat  him  with  politeness ; 7  and,  if  he  is  old,  with  marked 
respect.     Age,  itself,  has  a  perpetual8  claim  to  reverence.9 

5.  "  Did  you  never  hear  the  story  of  the  Russian  prin- 
cess?    She  was  on  some  pleasure  excursion  with  a  gay 

1  Re  tail'  ing,  cutting  up  and  dis-  6  Scan'  da  lous  ly,  shamefully 
posing  of  in  small  parcels ;  selling    in  a  manner  to  give  offense. 

in  small  quantities.  6  Im  mor'  al,    contrary    to    ccn 

2  Slight' ing  ly,  with  disregard,  science  or  God's  law;  wicked;  im 
as  of  little  value  and  unworthy  of     pure ;  vicious. 

notice.  *  Po  lite'  ness,    civility  :    good 

3  Maxim,  a  sentence  containing  a  breeding ;  kindness  of  manner, 
well-known  truth  of  practical  value.  8  Perpet'u  al  not  ending;  lasting 

4  For'  feit  ed,  lost  the  right  of  3  Rev'  er  enpe,  great  respect  and 
owning  or  having.  affectioij. 


196  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

party  in  France,  I  think,  or  Germany,  when  they  fell  in 
with  an  old  man,  in  a  humble  walk  in  life,  a  rustic,1  coarsely 
attired,  and  wearing  a  long  beard. 

6.  "  An  impertinent 2  lordling  treated  the  old  man  con- 
temptuously,3 laughed  at  his  beard,  and  offered  a  round 
sum  in  gold  to  any  lady  of  the  party  who  would  kiss  the 
veteran.4  Instantly  the  fair  Russian — who,  by  the  way,  was 
young  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  women  in  Europe — 
stepped  forward  and  accepted  the  challenge.5 

7.  "  The  purse  of  gold  was  deposited6  on  a  plate,  which, 
after  kissing  the  old  man,  the  princess  gracefully  presented 
to  him,  saying,  *  Take  this,  my  good  friend,  as  a  testimonial7 
that  the  daughters  of  Russia  are  taught  to  respect  old  age.' 

8.  "  But  it  is  not  the  old  only  that  are  entitled  to  respect. 
If  I  remember  rightly,  an  Apostle8  says  i Honor  all  men' 
Consider  that  every  man  is  entitled  to  politeness,  as  a  man, 
an  immortal  being,  destined  to  exist  forever,  with  your- 
self, in  the  world  of  spirits,  where  we  shall  all  be  classed, 
not  according  to  the  clothes  we  have  worn,  but  the  lives  we 
have  led  on  earth."  Toliver, 


SECTION    XVIII. 
i. 

89.     THE   STRANGER   ON  THE   SILL. 

BETWEEN  broad  fields  of  wheat  and  corn 
Is  the  lowly  home  where  I  was  born ; 
The  peach-tree  leans  against  the  wall, 
And  the  woodbine  wanders  over  all ; 

1  Rus'  tic,   a    countryman  ;    one  fight  or  contend,  or  to  do  any  extra 

who  works  upon  the  soil  ordinary  action. 

a  Ijn per' ti nent, impudent ; inso-  6  De  posit  ed,  placed, 

lent ;  rude.  7  Tea'  ti  mo'  ni  al,  proof ;  some. 

3  Con  tempt'  u  ous  ly,  with  great  thing  to  bear  witness, 
disrespect ;  showing  contempt.  8  Apostle,  (a  p6s'  si),  a  person  sent 

4  Vet'  er  an,   an  old   man  ;   one  forth  to  do  some  important  business ; 
grown  old  in  service.  one  of  the  twelve  disciples  of  Christ 

6  Chal'  lenge,   an    invitation    to    sent  forth  to  preach  the  gospel. 


THE    STRANGER    ON    THE  SILL.  197 

There  is  the  shaded  doorway  still, 
But  a  stranger's  foot  has  crossed  the  sill. 
%   There  is  the  barn — and,  as  of  yore,1 
I  can  smell  the  hay  from  the  open  door, 
And  see  the  busy  swallows  throng, 
And  hear  the  peewee's 2  mournful  song ; 
But  the  stranger  comes — oh !  painful  proof — 
His  sheaves  are  piled  to  the  heated  roof. 

3.  There  is  the  orchard — the  very  trees 
"Where  my  childhood  knew  long  hours  of  ease, 
And  watched  the  shadowy  moments  run, 

Till  my  life  imbibed3  more  shade  than  sun : 
The  swing  from  the  bough  still  sweeps  the  air, 
But  the  stranger's  children  are  swinging  there. 

4.  There  bubbles  the  shady  spring  below, 

With  its  bulrush  brook  where  the  hazels  grow : 

'Twas  there  I  found  the  calamus-root,4 

And  watched  the  minnows 5  poise 6  and  shoot, 

And  heard  the  robin  lave 7  his  wing, 

But  the  stranger's  bucket  is  at  the  spring. 

5.  Oh,  ye  who  daily  cross  the  sill, 
Step  lightly,  for  I  love  it  still ; 

And  when  you  crowd  the  old  barn  eaves, 
Then  think  what  countless  harvest  sheaves, 
Have  passed  within  that  scented  door, 
To  gladden  eyes  that  are  no  more ! 

6.  Deal  kindly  wifli  those  orchard  trees ; 
And  when  your  children  crowd  their  knees, 
Their  sweetest  fruit  they  shall  impart, 

As  if  old  memories  stirred  their  heart : 
To  youthful  sports  still  leave  the  swing, 
And  in  sweet  reverence 8  hold  the  spring. 

1  Yore,  of  yore,  of  old  time  ;  long        4  Cal'  a  mus-root,  flag-root, 
since  ;  long  ago.  6  Min'  nows,  small  fishes. 

2  Pee'  wee,  a  bird  called  pewit,        6  Poise,  balance ;  rest. 

or  lapwing.  T  Lave,  to  bathe  ;  to  wash. 

"  Im  bibed',  drank  in ;  absorbed ;        8  Rev'  er  ence,  a  continued   feel 
received  ;  took.  ing  of  great  respect  and  love 


198  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

7.   The l  barn,  the  trees,  the  brook,  the  birds, 
The  meadows  with  their 2  lowing  herds,3 
The  wood 'bine  on  the  cottage-wall — 
My  heart  still  lingers  with  them  all. 
Ye  strangers  on  my  native  sill, 
Step  lightly,  for  I  love  it  still ! 

T.  Buchanan  Read. 


II. 

90.     I    REMEMBER,   I    REMEMBER. 

1. 
KEMEMBER,  1  remember,  the  house  where  I  was 4  born  ; 


i 


The  little  window  where  the  sun  came  peeping  in  at  morn 
He  never  came  a6  wink  too  soon,  nor  brought  too  long6  a  day 
But  now,  I  often  wish  the  night  had  borne  my  breath  away  1 ' 

2. 

I  remember,  I  remember,  the  roses — red  and  white  ; 
The  violets  and  the  lily-cups,  those  flowers  made  of  light ! 
The  lilacs  where  the  robin  built,  and  where  my  brother  set 
The  laburnum 8  on  his  birth-day — the  tree  is  living  yet ! 

3. 

I  remember,  I  remembei,  where  I  was  used  to  swing  ; 

And  thought  the  air  must  rush  as  fresh  to  swallows  on  the  wing, 

My  spirit  flew  in  feathers  then,  that  is  so  heavy  now  ; 

And  summer  pools  could  hardly  cool  the  fever  on  my  brow ! 

4. 

I  remember,  I  remember,  the  fir-trees  dark  and  high  ; 
I  used  to  think  their  slender  tops  were  close  against  the  sky. 
It  was  a  childish  ignorance,  but  now  'tis  little  joy 
To  know  I'm  further  off  from  heaven,  than  when  I  was  a  boy. 

Thomas  Hood. 

■  The,  (thu),  see  Rule  3,  p.  24.  7  Away,  (a  wa),  Note  1,  p.  23,— 

a  Their,  (fhar),  see  Note  2,  p.  15.  also  Rule  2,  same  page. 

3  Herds,  (h&rdz),  see  Note  2,  p.  16.        8  Laburnum,  (la  beY  num),  a  kind 

4  "Was  (w6z).  of  ornamental  shrub  ;  a  tree  which 
6  A,  (a),  see  Rule  2,  p.  23.  is  a  native  of  the  Alps,  and  much 
e  Long,  (l&ng),  see  Note  2,  p.  16.  cultivated  as  an  ornamental  tree. 


LITTLE  AT  FIRST,    BCJT   GREAT  AT  LAST. 


199 


III. 
91.     LITTLE   AT    FIRST,   BUT   GREAT   AT  LAST. 

1. 

A  TRAVELER  through  a  dusty  road,  strew'd  acorns  on 
the  lea, 
And  one  took  root,  and  sprouted  up,  and  grew  into  a  tree. 
Love  sought  its  shade  at  evening  time,  to  breathe  its  early  vows 
And  Age  was  pleased,  in  heats  of  noon,  to  bask  beneath  its  boughs 
The  dormouse  loved  its  dangling  twigs,  the  birds  sweet  musia 

bore  • 
It  stood  a  glory  in  its  place,  a  blessing  evermore. 

2. 

A  little  spring  had  lost  its  way  amid  the  grass  and  fern  ; 

A  passing  stranger  scooped  a  well,  where  weary  men  might  turn: 


200  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

He  walled  it  in,  and  hung  with  care  a  ladle  at  the  brink — 
He  thought  not  of  the  deed  he  did,  but  judged  that  toil  might 

drink. 
He  passed  again — and  lo  !  the  well,  by  summers  never  dried, 
Had  cooled  ten  thousand  parching  tongues,  and  saved  a  life 

beside. 

3. 
A.  dreamer  dropped  a  random *  thought ;  'twas  old,  and  yet  was 

new — 
A  simple  fancy  of  the  brain,  but  strong  in  being  true  ; 
It  shone  upon  a  genial8  mind,  and  lo !  its  light  became 
A  lamp  of  life,  a  beacon3  ray,  a  monitory4  flame. 
The  thought  was  small — its  issue 5  great:  a  watch-fire  on  the  hill, 
[t  sheds  its  radiance 6  far  adown,  and  cheers  the  valley  still ! 

4. 
A  nameless  man,  amid  a  crowd  that  thronged  the  daily  mart/ 
Let  fall  a  word  of  Hope  and  Love,  unstudied,  from  the  heart ; 
A  whisper  on  the  tumult  thrown — a  transitory8  breath — 
It  raised  a  brother  from  the  dust,  it  saved  a  soul  from  death. 
0  germ ! 9  O  fount !  O  word  of  love !  O  thought  at  random  castl 
Ye  were  but  little  at  the  first,  but  mighty  at  the  last ! 

Charles  Mackay. 

IV. 
92.     THE   FLAX;    OR  THE   STORY   OF  A  LIFE. 

PAET  FIRST. 

T  T^HE  flax  stood  in  full  bloom ;  its  flowers  were  of  a  deli- 

JL    cate  blue,  soft 10  as  the  wing  of  a  moth,  but  far  more 

beautiful !     The  sun  shone  upon  the  flax,  and  the  summer 

1  Ran'  dom,  done  at   hazard,  or    ceeds  from   another  thing;    conse- 
without  settled  aim  or  purpose ;  left     quence ;  final  result  or  end. 

to  chance.  6  Ra'  di  ance,  vivid  light ;  bril 

2  Genial,  (je'  nl  al),  jovial  and  in-    liancy  ;  brightness. 

spiring  joy  or  happiness;  productive.         7  Mart,  a  place  of  traffic  or  sale: 

3  Beacon,  (be'  kn),  a  signal-fire  to    a  market. 

make  known  the  approach  of  an        8  Tran' si  to  ry,   continuing  onlv 

enemy  ;  that  which  warns.  for  a  short  time ;  short-lived. 

*  Mon'  i  to  ry,  instructing  by  way        9  Germ,  (gSrm),  a  bud ;  that  from 

of  caution  ;  warning.  which  anything  springs. 

6  Issue,  (Ish'  shS),  that  which  pro-        10  Soft,  (soft),  see  Note  1,  p.  16. 


THE  FLAX;    OR  THE   STORY    OF  A  LIFE.  201 

rain  descended  on  it ;  and  this  was  good  for  the  plant,  even 
as  it  is  for  a  little  child  to  be  bathed  in  pure  water  and  then 
to  receive  its  fond  mother's  kiss.  The  babe  looks  all  the 
more  lovely  afterward,  and  thns  it  was  also  with  the  flax. 

2.  "  People  say  that  I  am  grown  so  tall  and  so  beautiful," 
said  the  flax,  "  and  that  the  finest  and  best  linen  may  be 
woven  out  of  me  :  now,  am  I  not  happy  ?  Truly,  I  am  the 
most  fortunate  of  beings ;  for  all  is  bright  and  well  with  me 
now,  and  hereafter  I  may  hope  also  to  be  useful  to  others. 
How  joyous  is  the  sunshine,  and  how  refreshing  the  rain  ! 
Oh,  I  am  unspeakably  happy,  the  very  happiest  of  beings !" 

3.  "  Yes,  yes,"  replied  a  stout  twig  in  the  neighboring 
hedge,  "  you  know  nothing  of  the  world ;  but  we  do  to  our 
cost,  when  our  knotted  stems  are  cut  down." 

4.  One  day  there  came  people,  who,  seizing  the  flax  by 
its  head,  pulled  it  up  by  the  roots :  this  was  painful.  Then 
it  was  laid  in  water  that  it  might  become  soft ;  and  then  it 
was  placed  over  a  slow  fire  as  if  it  was  to  be  baked.  Oh, 
it  was  sad  work !  "  One  cannot  expect  to  be  always  pros- 
perous," said  the  flax  ;  "  one  must  suffer  now  and  then,  and 
thereby,  perhaps,  a  little  wisdom  may  be  gained." 

5.  But  matters  seemed  to  grow  worse  and  worse :  after 
the  flax  had  been  soaked  and  baked,  it  was  beaten  and 
hackled ; 1  neither  could  it  guess  the  meaning  of  all  that 
was  inflicted.  At  length  it  was  placed  on  the  spinning- 
wheel — whizz,  whizz,  whizz!  It  was  not  easy  to  collect 
one's  thoughts  in  this  position. 

6.  "I  have  been  extremely  happy,"  thought  the  patient 
flax,  amid  all  its  sufferings ;  "  one  ought  to  be  contented 
with  the  good  things  one  has  already  enjoyed.  Content- 
ment, contentment,  oh ! — "  The  words  were  scarcely  ut- 
tered, when  the  well-spun  thread  was  placed  in  the  loom. 
The  whole  of  the  flax,  even  to  the  last  fiber,  was  used  in 
the  manufacture  of  a  single  piece  of  fine  linen. 

7.  "  Well  this  is  really  extraordinary ;  I  never  could  have 
expected  it !     How  favorable  fortune  is  to  me  !    It  is  really 

!  Hackled  (hak'  Id),  tore  rudely  part  of  flax  from  the  fine,  by  drawing 
asunder ;   separated,   as  the   coarse    it  through  the  teeth  of  a  hackle. 


202  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

wonderful !  What  have  I  ever  done  to  deserve  so  happy  a 
fate  ?  Oh,  I  am  the  most  fortunate  of  beings !  My  web  is 
so  stout  and  so  fine —  so  white  and  so  smooth !  This  is  quite 
another  thing  from  being  merely  a  plant,  bearing  flowers, 
indeed,  but  untended  by  man,  and  watered  only  when  the 
rain  fell  upon  me  from  heaven. 

8.  "  Now,  I  am  waited  on  and  cared  for.  Each  morn- 
ing does  the  neat-handed  maiden  turn  me  over ;  and  in  the 
evening  I  receive  a  rain-bath  out  of  the  bright  green  water- 
ing-pot ;  yes,  and  the  pastor's  lady  herself  has  been  talking 
of  me,  and  says  I  am  the  best  piece  in  the  whole  parish.  I 
could  not  be  happier  than  I  am." 

9.  Now  was  the  piece  of  linen  carried  into  the  house ; 
then,  submitted  to  the  scissors ;  oh,  how  unmercifully  was 
it  nicked  and  cut,  and  stitched  with  needles  !  That  was  by 
no  means  agreeable  ;  but  from  this  single  piece  were  cut 
twelve  linen  garments  of  that  sort  which  one  does  not 
gladly  name,  but  which  all  men  desire  to  possess.  Of  such 
garments,  twelve  were  cut  out  and  quickly  made. 

10.  "  Only  see,  now ;  I  have  at  length  become  really  use- 
ful; and  this,  surely,  was  my  true  destiny.1  Oh,  what  a 
blessing  is  this,  that  I  am  allowed  to  produce  something 
that  is  needful  to  mankind !  and  when  one  is  permitted  to 
do  so,  it  is  a  source  of  the  purest  satisfaction.2  We  are 
now  become  twelve  pieces,  and  yet  we  are  all  one  and  the 
same.  We  are  a  dozen!  What  extraordinary  good  for- 
tune is  this !" 

11.  And  years  passed  on — and  the  linen  was  now  quite 
worn  out.  "  I  shall  very  soon  be  laid  aside,"  said  each  one 
of  the  garments  ;  "  I  would  gladly  have  lasted  longer,  but 
one  must  not  desire  impossibilities."  So  they  were  torn 
into  strips  and  shreds ;  and  it  seemed  as  if,  now,  all  was 
over  with  the  worn-out  linen,  for  it  was  hacked  and  soaked 
and  baked ;  and  what  more  it  scarcely  knew,  until  it  became 
fine  white  paper. 

1  Des'  ti  ny,  that  to  which  any  a  SatN  is  fac'  tion.  that  which  sat. 
person  or  thing  is  appointed,  in-  isfies  or  gratifies;  contentment  in 
tended,  or  doomed.  doing,  or  in  having  and  enjpying. 


THE  FLAX;    OR,   THE   STORY  OF  A  LIFE.  203 

V. 

93.     THE    FLAX;    OR,   THE   STORY   OF  A  LIFE. 

PART   SECOND. 

u  "TTTELL,  this  is  a  surprise — a  delightful  surprise  I"  said 
V  V  the  paper.  "  Now  am  I  still  finer  than  before  ; 
and  of  course  I  shall  be  written  upon.  Yes !  Who  can  tell 
what  glorious  thoughts  may  be  inscribed 1  upon  my  leaves  ? 
This  is  indeed  an  unlooked  for  happiness  !" 

2.  And  so  it  turned  out,  truly,  that  the  most  beautiful 
tales  and  poetry  were  written  upon  the  paper ;  and  some  of 
it  came  into  the  hands  of  a  worthy  pastor — that  was  a 
peculiar 2  happiness ;  for  many  people  listened  to  the  words 
he  had  noted  down,  and  they  were  so  wise  and  so  good  that 
they  made  men  wiser  and  better  than  they  were  before.  A 
blessing  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  words  written  on  this  paper. 

3.  "  This  is  more  than  ever  I  ventured  to  dream  of  when 
I  was  a  simple  little  blue  flower  growing  in  the  field.  How, 
indeed,  could  it  have  occurred  to  me  that  at  a  future  time  I 
should  be  the  messenger  of  wisdom  and  of  joy  to  mankind? 
It  is  almost  inconceivable  to  me,  and  yet  it  is  truly  so.  Our 
Lord  God  knoweth  that  I  myself  have  done  nothing,  save 
after  my  feeble  fashion,  that  which  was  needful  to  the  very 
life  of  my  being ;  yet  He  has  led  me  on  in  this  wise,  from 
one  degree  of  happiness  and  honor  to  another. 

4.  "  Each  time,  when  I  thought  within  myself,  '  now,  in- 
deed, the  song  is  o'er,'  then  did  it  speedily  rise  to  a  higher 
and  better  strain.  Now,  I  shall  doubtless  go  on  my  travels, 
and  be  sent  throughout  the  world  that  all  men  may  become 
acquainted  with  my  contents.  This  seems  most  likely; 
how,  indeed,  could  it  be  otherwise,  seeing  that  I  have  now 
so  many  precious  thoughts  to  impart,  even  as  many  as  were 
the  little  blue  flowers  which  I  bore  in  my  earlier  days  ?  Ah, 
I  am  so  happy — the  very  happiest  of  beings !" 

1  In  scribed',  marked  down  as  ing  solely  or  especially  to  an  indi- 
something  to  be  read  ;  written.  vidual,  or  a  single  thing ;  not  po& 

3  Peculiar,  (pe  kul'  yar),   belong-    sessed  by  others 


204  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

5.  But  the  paper  was  not  destined  to  set  out  on  its  trav* 
els.  for  it  was  sent  to  the  printing-press ;  and  there  all  its 
writing  was  printed  in  a  book  or  rather  in  many  hundred 
books,  so  that  an  infinitely1  larger  share  of  knowledge 
and  amusement  resulted  from  its  circulation  than  if  the 
written  paper  had  been  sent  traveling  round  the  world, 
when  it  would  have  been  worn  out  before  half  its  journey 
was  accomplished. 

6.  "Well,  this  is  truly  a  most  sensible  arrangement," 
thought  the  written  paper ;  "  never  could  such  an  idea  have 
entered  my  imagination.2  Now  am  I  left  at  home,  and 
honored  almost  like  an  aged  grandfather,  which  in  fact  I 
am,  of  all  those  new  books,  and  they  will  do  so  much  more 
good  in  the  world :  therefore  was  it  that  I  could  not  be 
permitted  to  set  out  on  my  travel^. 

7.  "  I  have,  indeed,  been  kindly  cared  for  by  him  who 
wrote  the  whole  ;  and  every  word  which  flowed  out  of  his 
pen  has  entered  into  my  substance  and  become  part  of  my 
very  self.  I  am  surely  the  very  happiest  of  beings."  Then 
was  the  paper  gathered  in  a  bundle  and  thrown  into  a  bar- 
rel which  stood  in  the  wash-house. 

8.  "  After  the  completion  of  a  work  it  is  good  to  repose 
awhile,"  said  the  paper ;  "  it  is  well  to  collect  one's  thoughts 
now  and  then,  and  to  meditate 3  on  that  which  dwells  within. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  now  begin  to  understand 
aright  what  I  was  intended  for ;  and  to  know  one's  self  is 
the  truest  progress.4  "What  may  be  about  to  befall  me  now 
I  can  not  tell,  but  hitherto  each  change  has  been  an  onward 
step.  Onward,  ever  onward,  is  my  destiny.  This  have  I 
learned  by  past  experience."5 

9.  And  so  it  happened  one  day  that  the  whole  bundle  of 

'*  In'  finitely,    without    bounds  thing  in  thought ;  to  turn  any  sub- 

or  limits  ;  beyond  or  below  given  ject  in  the  mind, 

bounds.  *  Prog'  ress,  a  moving  or  going 

2  Im  agr  i  na'  tion,    the    image-  forward;  gradual  advance  or  growth 

making  power ;  the  power  to  create  in  learning,  goodness,  etc. 

or  form  again  an  object  of  sense  be-  5  Ex  pe'  ri  ence,  frequent  trial  ol 

fore  noticed  or  seen  a  matter ;  useful  knowledge  taught 

*  Med'  i  tate,   to  dwell   on  any  by  the  changes  and  trials  of  life- 


THE  FLAX;    OR,   THE   STORY  OF  A  LIFE.  205 

paper  was  taken  out  of  the  barrel  and  laid  upon  the  hearth,1 
in  order  that  it  might  be  burned  there,  for  it  was  thought  a 
pity  to  sell  it  to  the  huckster  for  the  purpose  of  wrapping 
up  sugar  and  butter  in  its  leaves.  All  the  children  in  the 
house  stood  round  about,  because  they  wished  to  see  the 
paper  burning :  it  flamed  up  magnificently,  and  afterward 
were  seen  countless  red  sparks  darting  hither  and  thither, 
and  one  after  the  other  going  out  so  swiftly — so  swiftly. 

10.  Then  cried  out  one  of  the  little  ones  :  "  Come  and  see 
the  children  out  of  school !"  and  the  last 2  spark  was  the 
school-master.  It  often  seemed  as  if  the  last  one  was  ex- 
tinguished, but  instantly  another  spark  would  gleam  out, 
and  then  came  the  cry:  "There  goes  the  schoolmaster 
again."  Yes,  they  were  quite  well  acquainted  with  him ; 
they  only  wished  to  know  whither  he  went !  We  shall  come 
to  know  it,  but  they  knew  it  not. 

11.  All  the  old  paper,  the  whole  bundle,  was  laid  upon 
the  fire,  and  quickly  did  it  kindle.  "Uh,  uh!"  said  the 
burning  paper,  and  flickered  up  into  clear  bright  flame. 
"  Uh,  uh  l"  It  was  by  no  means  pleasant  thus  to  consume 
away ;  but  when  the  whole  mass  was  lighted  into  one  vast 
glowing  flame  it  rose  up  so  high  into  the  air,  higher  far 
than  the  tiny  blue  flower  ever  could  have  aspired  to  do,  and 
shone  as  the  fine  white  linen  never  could  have  pretended  to 
do  in  its  most  glossy  days.  All  the  written  letters  became 
of  a  scarlet  hue,  and  the  words  and  thoughts  rose  upward 
amid  the  flames. 

12.  "  Now  am  I  ascending  toward  the  sun  itself !"  So 
thought  the  burning  paper,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the 
words  were  repeated  by  a  thousand  voices  in  unison,  while 
the  roaring  flame  rushed  through  the  chimney  and  soared 
upward  into  the  blue  vault  of  heaven ;  and,  more  beautiful 
than  the  flame,  although  invisible 3  to  human  eyes,  floated 
millions  of  airy  atoms,  countless  as  had  been  once  the  blue 
flax-flowers  in  the  field. 

13.  They  were  far  lighter  than  the  flame  which  had  given 

1  Hearth,  (h&rth).  3  Invisible,  (in  viz'  I  bl),  not  cap* 

'  Last,  (l&st),  see  Note  3,  p.  15.  ble  of  being  seen. 


206  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

them  birth,  and  as  this  became  extinct,  and  nothing  re- 
mained of  the  white  paper  save  the  dull  black  ashes,  then 
these  fiery  atoms  danced  fairy-like  above  them,  and  wher- 
ever they  rested  a  moment,  there  did  the  red  sparks  gleam 
out  brightly  again,  and  then  was  the  cry  repeated,  "  Here 
are  the  children  out  of  school,  and  there  is  the  schoolmas- 
ter last  of  all !"  That  was  fun  indeed ;  and  the  children 
sang  beside  the  dark  dead  ashes  an  old-fashioned  rhyme ; 
but  the  little  airy  invisible  beings  spoke  in  another  strain, 
saying :  "  The  song  is  by  no  means  o'er,  its  sweetest  'part  but 
just  begins"  Hans  Christian  Andersen. 


SECTION  XIX. 
i. 

94.     AUTUMN. 

SEPTEMBER  has  come.  The  fierce  heat  of  summer  is 
gone.  Men  are  at  work  in  the  fields  cutting  down  the 
yellow  grain,  and  binding  it  up  into  sheaves.  The  fields  of 
corn  stand  in  thick  ranks,  heavy  with  ears ;  and,  as  their 
tassels  arid  broad  leaves  rattle  in  the  wind,  they  seem  to 
whisper  of  plenty. 

2.  The  boughs  of  the  orchard  hang  low  with  the  red  and 
golden  fruit.  Laughing  boys  are  picking  up  the  purple 
plums  and  the  red-cheeked  peaches  that  have  fallen  in  the 
high  grass.  Large,  rich  melons  are  on  the  garden  vines, 
and  sweet  grapes  hang  in  clusters  by  the  wall. 

3.  The  larks  with  their  black  and  yellow  breasts  stand 
watching  you  on  the  close-mown  meadow.  As  you  come 
near,  they  spring  up,  fly  a  little  distance,  and  light  again. 
The  robins  that  long  ago  left  the  gardens,  feed  in  flocks 
upon  the  red  berries  of  the  sumac,  and  the  soft- eyed  pigeons 
are  with  them  to  claim  their  share.  The  lazy  blackbirds 
follow  the  cows  and  pick  up  crickets  and  other  insects  that 
they  start  up  with  their  large  hoofs. 


AUTUMN. 


207 


4.  The  leaves  fade.  The  ash-trees  grow  crimson  in  color. 
The  twigs  of  the  birch  turn  yellow,  and  the  leaves  of  the 
chestnut  are  brown.  The  maple  in  the  valley  has  lost  its 
bright-green,  and  its  leaves  are  of  the  hue  of  gold. 


5.  At  noon,  the  air  is  still  mild,  and  soft.  You  see  blue 
smoke  off  by  the  distant  wood  and  hills.  The  brook  is 
almost  dry.  The  water  runs  over  the  pebbles  with  a  soft, 
low  murmur.  The  golden-rod  is  on  the  hill,  the  aster  by 
the  brook,  and  the  sunflower  in  the  garden. 

C).  The  twitter  of  the  birds  is  still  heard.     The  sheep 


208  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

bleat  upon  the  brown  hill-side,  and  the  soft  tinkle  of  their 
bell  floats  upon  the  air.  The  merry  whistle  of  the  plow- 
boy  comes  up  from  the  field,  and  the  cow  lows  in  the  dis- 
tant pasture. 

7.  As  the  sun  sinks  in  the  October  smoke,  the  low,  south 
wind  creeps  over  the  dry  tree-tops,  and  the  leaves  fall  in 
showers  upon  the  ground.  The  sun  sinks  lower,  and  lower, 
and  is  gone ;  but  his  bright  beams  still  linger  in  the  west. 
Then  the  evening  star  is  seen  shining  with  a  soft,  mellow 
light,  and  the  moon,  red  as  blood,  rises  slowly  in  the  still 
and  hazy  air. 

8.  November  comes.  The  flowers  are  all  dead.  The 
grass  is  pale  and  white.  The  wind  has  blown  the  dry  leaves 
into  heaps.  The  timid  rabbit  treads  softly  on  the  dry  leaves. 
The  crow  calls  from  the  high  tree-top.  The  sound  of  drop- 
ping nuts  is  heard  in  the  wood.  Children  go  out  morning 
and  evening  to  gather  nuts  for  winter.  The  busy  little 
squirrels  will  be  sure  to  get  their  share  of  the  nuts. 


n. 

95.     CORNFIELDS. 

1. 

~T~TTT"HEN  on  the  breath  of  autumn  breeze,  from  pastures  dry 

V  V  and  brown, 

Goes  floating,  like  an  idle  thought,  the  fair  white  thistle-down, 

Oh  then  what  joy  to  walk  at  will 

Upon  the  golden  harvest  hill ! 


What  joy  in  dreamy  ease  to  He  amid  a  field  new  shorn, 

And  see  all  round  on  sun-lit  slopes1  the  piled-up  stacks  of  corn; 

And  send  the  fancy2  wandering  o'er 

All  pleasant  harvest-fields  of  yore. 

1  Slope,  any  ground  that  has  an    formed  in  the  mind  ;  that  power  by 
ascending  or  descending  surface.  which  the  mind  forms  an  image  or 

8  Pan'  cy,  a  picture  of  any  thing    picture  of  something. 


TO    AUTUMN.  209 

3. 
I  feel  the  day — I  see  the  field,  the  quivering  of  the  leaves, 
And  good  old  Jacob  and  his  house  binding  the  yellow  sheaves ; 

And  at  this  very  hour  I  seem 

To  be  with  Joseph  in  his  dream. 
4. 
I  see  the  fields  of  Bethlehem,  and  reapers  many  a  one, 
Bending  unto  their  sickles'  stroke — and  Boaz  looking  on  ; 

And  Ruth,1  the  Moabite  so  fair, 

Among  the  gleaners  stooping  there. 

5. 

Again  I  see  a  little  child,  his  mother's  sole  delight, — 
God's  living  gift  of  love  unto  the  kind  good  Shunammite  ;* 
To  mortal 3  pangs  I  see  him  yield, 
And  the  lad  bear  him  from  the  field. 

6. 
The  sun-bathed  quiet  of  the  hills,  the  fields  of  Galilee, 
That  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  were  full  of  corn,  I  see  ; 

And  the  dear  Saviour  takes  his  way 

'Mid  ripe  ears  on  the  Sabbath  day. 

7. 
Oh  golden  fields  of  bending  corn,  how  beautiful  they  seem ! 
The  reaper-folk,  the  piled-up  sheaves,  to  me  are  like  a  dream. 
The  sunshine  and  the  very  air 
Seem  of  old  time,  and  take  me  there. 

Mary  Howitt. 

III. 
96.     TO    AUTUMN. 

SEASON  of  mists  and  mellow  fruitfulness ! 
Close  bosom-friend  of  the  maturing 4  sun ! 
Conspiring 5  with  him  how  to  load  and  bless 

"With  fruit 6  the  vines  that  round  the  thatch-eaves  run — 

1  Ruth,  (rSfti),  see  Rule  4,  p.  24.  «  Ma  tur'  ing,   advancing  toward 

2  Shunammite,    ( sho'  nam  mlt ),    ripeness  ;  ripening. 

see  Bible,  II  Kings,  chap.  iv.  6  Con  spir'ing,  plotting  together  j 

3  Mor'  tal,  destined  to  die  ;   caus-    planning. 

ing  death  ;  deadly.  *  Fruit,  (frSt),  see  Note  4,  p.  16. 


210  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

To  bend  with  apples  the  mossed  cottage  trees, 
And  fill  all  fruit  with  ripeness  to  the  core — 

To  swell  the  gourd,  and  plump  the  hazel  shells 
"With  a  sweet  kernel — to  set  budding,  more, 
And  still  more,  later  flowers  for  the  bees, 
Until  they  think  warm  days  will  never  cease, 

For  Summer  has  o'er-brimmed  their  clammy  cslls. 

2.  Who  hath  not  seen  thee  6ft  amid  thy  store  ? 

Sometimes  whoever  seeks  abroad  may  find 
Thee  sitting  careless  on  a  granary !  floor, 

Thy  hair  soft-lifted  by  the  winnowing  wind ; 
Or  on  a  half-reaped  furrow  sound  asleep, 

Drowsed  with  the  fume  of  poppies,  while  thy  hook 
Spares  the  next  swath 2  and  all  its  twined  flowers ; 
And  sometime  like  a  gleaner  thou  dost  keep 

Steady  thy  laden  head  across  a  brook ; 

Or  by  a  cider-press,  with  patient  look, 

Thou  watchest  the  last  oozings,  hours  by  hours. 

3.  Where  are  the  songs  of  Spring  ?    Ay,  where  are  they  ? 

Think  not  of  them — thou  hast  thy  music  too : 
While  barred  clouds  bloom  the  soft-dying  day, 
And  touch  the  stubble-plains  with  rosy  hue  ;3 
Then  in  a  wailful  choir 4  the  small  gnats  mourn 
Among  the  river  sallows,5  borne  aloft 

Or  sinking,  as  the  light  wind  lives  or  dies ; 
And  full-grown  lambs  loud  bleat  from  hilly  bourn  ;6 
Hedge-crickets  sing ;  and  now  with  treble  soft 
The  red-breast  whistles  from  a  garden-croft,7 
And  gathering  swallows  twitter  in  the  skies. 

John  Keats. 

i  Granary,    (gran'  a  il),    a    store-  3  Hue,  dye  ;  tint ;  color, 

house  of  grain  after  it  is  thrashed  ;  *  Choir,  (kwir),  a  band  or  company 

a  corn-house.  of  singers. 

3  Swath,  (swath),  a  line  of  grass  6  Sal'  lows,  certain  trees  or  low 

or  grain  cut  and  thrown  together  by  shrubs  of  the  willow  kind, 

the  scythe ;  the  whole  sweep  of  a  6  Bourn,  a  bound  ;  a  limit ;  also, 

scythe,  or  the  whole  breadth  from  a  rivulet  or  stream, 

which  grass  or  grain  is  cut  by  a  7  Croft,    a    small    inclosed    field 

scythe  or  a  cradle.  used  for  a  pasture,  a  garden,  etc. 


TWO    NEIGHBORS    AND    THE    HENS.  211 


SECTION    XX. 
i. 

97.    TWO    NEIGHBORS    AND    THE    HENS. 

IN  a  conversation  I  had  with  a  man  in  New  Jersey,  ho 
told  me  this  anecdote.  "  I  once  owned  a  large  flock  of 
hens.  I  generally  kept  them  shut  up ;  but  one  spring  I 
concluded  to  let  them  run  in  my  yard,  after  I  had  clipped 
their  wings  so  that  they  could  not  fly. 

2.  "  One  day,  when  I  came  home  to  dinner,  I  learned 
that  one  of  my  neighbors  had  been  there,  full  of  wrath,1  to 
let  me  know  that  my  hens  had  been  in  his  garden,  and  that 
he  had  killed  several  of  them,  and  thrown  them  over  into 
my  yard.  I  was  greatly  enraged,  because  he  had  killed  my 
beautiful  hens,  that  I  valued  so  much.  I  determined  at  once 
to  be  revenged — to  sue  him,  or  in  some  way  get  redress.2 

3.  "  I  sat  down  and  ate  my  dinner  as  calmly  as  I  could. 
By  the  time  I  had  finished  my  meal  I  became  more  cool, 
and  thought  that  perhaps  it  was  not  best  to  fight  with  my 
neighbor  about  hens,  and  thereby  make  him  my  bitter, 
lasting  enemy.  I  concluded  to  try  another  way,  being  sure 
it  would  do  better. 

4.  "  After  dinner,  I  went  to  my  neighbor's.  He  was  in 
his  garden.  I  went  out  and  found  him  in  pursuit  of  one  of 
my  hens  wifh  a  club,  trying  to  kill  it.  I  accosted3  him. 
He  turned  upon  me,  his  face  inflamed4  with  wrath,  and 
broke  out  in  a  great  fury  :  '  You  have  abused  me.  I  will 
kill  all  of  your  hens,  if  I  can  get  at  them  :  I  never  was  so 
abused.     My  garden  is  ruined.' 5 

5.  "  '  I  am  very  sorry  for  it,'  said  I :  '  I  did  not  wish  to 
injure  you,  and  now  see  that  I  have  made  a  great  mistake 
in  letting  out  my  hens.  I  ask  your  forgiveness,  and  am 
willing  to  pay  you  six  times  the  damage.' 

1  Wrath,  (rath),  very  fierce  anger ;  3  Ac  cost'  ed,  came  to  the  side  of 

fury  ;  rage.  addressed  ;  spoke  to. 

a  Re  dress',  satisfaction  or  pay-  4  In  flamed',  red  ;  burning, 

ment  for  wrong  that  has  been  done.  6  Ruined,  (rd'  ind),  Rule  5,  p.  24 


212  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

6.  "  The  man  seemed  confounded.1  He  did  not  know  what 
to  make  of  it.  He  looked  up  to  the  sky — then  down  to  the 
earth — then  at  his  neighbor — then  at  his  club,  and  then  at 
the  hen  he  had  been  pursuing,  and  said  nothing.2 

7.  ut  Tell  me,  now,'  said  I,  *  what  is  the  damage,  and  I 
will  pay  you  six-fold ;  and  my  hens  shall  trouble  you  no 
more.  I  will  leave  it  entirely  to  you  to  say  what  I  shall  do. 
I  can  not  afford  to  lose  the  love  and  good-will  of  my  neigh- 
bors, and  quarrel  with  them,  for  hens,  or  any  thing  else.' 

8.  "  '  I  am  a  great  fool,'  said  the  neighbor ;  *  the  damage 
is  not  worth  talking  about ;  and  I  have  more  need  to  com- 
pensate 3  you,  than  you  me,  and  to  ask  your  forgiveness, 
than  you  mine.' " 

n. 

98.     TRADE    AND    SPADE. 

BETWEEN  two  friends  in  days  of  old 
A  bitter  strife  began, 
And  Father  Spade  wifh  Brother  Trade 

Disputed  man  to  man. 
f  You're  vain,  undutiful,  and  proud," 

Said  Spade,  with  flashing  eyes : 
"  You  earn  your  thousands  while  I  starve ; 
You  mock  my  children's  cries. 

2.  "  You  ride  in  state  with  lordly  looks ; 

You  dwell  in  bower  and  hall ; 
You  speak  of  me  reproachfully, 

And  prosper  on  my  fall. 
So  from  this  hour,  in  shine  or  shower, 

We'll  learn  to  live  apart. 
I  ruled  the  earth  ere  you  were  born — 

I  cast  you  from  my  heart." 

3.  And  Trade  lost  temper  in  his  pride : 

He  uttered  words  of  scorn : 

1  Con  found'  ed,  entirely  confus-  *  Com  pen'  sate,  to  make  equal 
ed  ;  at  a  loss  what  to  say  or  do.  return  to  ;  to  repay  by  giving  what 

3  Nothing,  (nuth'  ing).  is  of  an  equal  value. 


THINGS    BY    THEIR    RIGHT    NAMES.  213 

"  You  do  not  know  the  ways  of  men, 

Amid  your  sheep  and  corn. 
You  doze  away  the  busy  day, 

Nor  think  how  minutes  run. 
Go,  put  your  shoulder  to  your  work, 

And  do  as  I  have  done. 

4.  You've  all  the  earth  to  yield  you  wrealth — 

Both  corn  and  pasture-land  ; 
I  only  ask  a  counting-house, 

And  room  whereon  to  stand. 
And  from  this  hour,  in  shine  or  shower, 

I'll  learn  to  live  alone  : 
I'll  do  without  you  well  enough — 

The  world  shall  be  my  own!" 

5.  And  thus  they  wrangled  night  and  day, 

Unfair,  like  angry  men, 
Till  things  went  wrong  between  them  both, 

And  would  not  right  again. 
But  growing  wiser  in  distress, 

Each  grasp'd  the  other's  hand ; 
"'Twas  wrong,"  said  Spade,  "to  rail  at  Trade; 

He  loves  me  in  the  land." 

6.  And  Trade  as  freely  owned  his  fault  : 

"  I've  been  unjust,"  he  said, 
"  To  quarrel  with  the  good  old  man, 

Who  grows  my  daily  bread. 
Long  may  we  nourish,  Trade  and  Spade, 

In  city  and  in  plain  ! 
The  people  starve  while  we  dispute — 

We  must  not  part  again."         Charles  Macka* 

III. 
99.   THINGS   BY    THEIR  RIGHT   NAMES. 

CHAKLES.  Father,  last  winter  you  used  to  tell  us 
stories,  and  now  you  never  tell  us  any ;  and  we  are  all 
got  round  the  fire  quite  ready  to  hear  you.  Pray,  dear 
father,  let  us  have  a  very  pretty  one. 


214  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Fat7ie7\  With  all  my  heart — what  shall  it  be  ? 

Ch.  A  bloody  murder,  father ! 

Fa.  A  bloody  murder !  Well,  then — Once  upon  a  time, 
some  men,  dressed  all  alike — 

Ch.  With  black  crapes  over  their  faces  ? 

Fa.  No ;  they  had  steel  caps  on :  having  crossed  a  dark 
heath,  wound  cautiously  along  the  skirts  of  a  deep  forest — 

Ch.  They  were  ill-looking  fellows,  I  dare  say. 

Fa.  I  can  not  say  so ;  on  the  contrary,  they  were  tall, 
good-looking  men  as  one  shall  often  see : — leaving  on  their 
right  hand  an  old  ruined  tower  on  the  hill — 

Ch.  At  midnight,  just  as  the  clock  struck  twelve  ;  was  it 
not,  father? 

Fa.  No,  really ;  it  was  on  a  fine,  balmy  summer's  morn- 
ing—and moved  forwards,  one  behind  another — 

Ch.  As  still  as  death,  creeping  along  under  the  hedges  ? 

Fa.  On  the  contrary,  they  walked  remarkably  upright ; 
and  so  far  from  endeavoring  to  be  hushed  and  still,  they 
made  a  loud  noise  as  they  came  along,  with  several  sorts  of 
instruments. 

Ch.  But,  father,  they  would  be  found  out  immediately. 

Fa.  They  did  not  seem  to  wish  to  conceal  themselves : 
on  the  contrary,  they  gloried  in  what  they  were  about. 
They  moved  forward,  I  say,  to  a  large  plain,  where  stood  a 
neat,  pretty  village,  which  they  set  on  fire — 

Ch.  Set  a  village  on  fire  ?     Wicked  wretches ! 

Fa.  And  while  it  was  burning,  they  murdered — twenty 
thousand  men. 

Ch.  O  fie!  father.  You  don't  intend  I  should  believe 
this  ?  I  thought  all  along  you  were  making  up  a  tale,  as  you 
often  do ;  but  you  shall  not  catch  me  this  time.  What !  they 
lay  still,  I  suppose,  and  let  these  fellows  cut  their  throats ! 

Fa.  No,  truly  ;  they  resisted  as  long  as  they  could. 

Ch.  How  should  these  men  kill  twenty  thousand,  pray  ? 

Fa.  Why  not  ?  the  murderers  were  thirty  thousand. 

Ch.  Oh,  now  I  have  found  you  out !   You  mean  a  Battle  ! 

Fa.  Indeed  I  do.  I  do  not  know  of  any  murders  half  so 
bloodv. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BLENHEIM 


215 


IY. 
100.     THE    BATTLE    OF    BLENHEIM. 


IT  was  a  summer  evening— old  Kaspar's  work  was  done, 
And  he,  before  his  cottage  door,  was  sitting  in  the  sun  ; 
And  by  him  sported  on  the  green, 
His  little  grandchild,  AVilhelmine. 


21(5  NATIONAL    THIRD    READEK. 

2. 

She  saw  her  brother,  Peterkin,  roll  something  large  and  round, 
Which  he  beside  the  rivulet,1  in  playing  there,  had  found  ; 
He  came  to  ask  what  he  had  found, 
That  was  so  large,  and  smooth,  and  round. 

3. 

Old  Kaspar  took  it  from  the  boy,  who  stood  expectant9  by  ; 
And  then  the  old  man  shook  his  head,  and,  with  a  natural  sigh  - 

"  'Tis  some  poor  fellow's  skull,''  said  he, 

"  Who  fell  in  the  great  victory. 

4. 
"  I  find  them  in  the  garden,  for  there's  many  here  about ; 
And  often,  when  I  go  to  plow,  the  plowshare  turns  them  out ; 

For  many  thousand  men,"  said  he, 

"  Were  slain  in  the  great  victory." 

5. 

"  Now  tell  us  what  'twas  all  about,"  young  Peterkin  he  cries  ; 

And  little  Wilhelmine  looks  up  with  wonder-waiting  eyes — 
"  Now  tell  us  all  about  the  war, 
And  what  they  killed  each  other  for.'* 

6. 
"It  was  the  English,"  Kaspar  cried, "who  put  the  French  to  rout? 
But  what  they  killed  each  other  for,  I  could  not  well  make  out ; 

But  every  body  said,"  quoth 4  he, 

"  That  'twas  a  famous  victory. 

7. 
"  My  father  lived  at  Blenheim 5  then,  yon  little  stream  hard  by;' 
They  burned  his  dwelling  to  the  ground,  and  he  was  forced  to  fly; 

So,  with  his  wife  and  child  he  fled, 

Nor  had  he  where  to  rest  his  head. 

1  Riv'u  let,  a  small  river  or  brook ;  4  Quoth,  (kwoth),  spoke  ;  said. 

a  streamlet.  6  Blenheim,  (blen'im),   a  village 

a  Eac  pect'  ant,  having  an  appear-  of  Bavaria,  Germany,  twenty-three 

ance  of  expectation ;  looking  for.  miles  from   Augsburg,  noted  for  a 

8  Rout,  the  defeat  or  breaking  of  great  battle  fought  there,  in  which 

an  army  or  band  of  troops,  or  the  the  English  gained  a  victory  over 

disorder  and  confusion  of  troops  de-  the  French,  August  2nd,  1704. 

feated  and  put  to  flight.  •  Hard  by,  near  by ;  close  at  hand. 


THE    OBSERVING  JUDGE.  217 

8. 
"With  fire  and  sword  the  country  round  was  wasted-  far  and  wide ; 
And  many  a  hapless2  mother  there,  and  new-born  baby,  died  ; 

But  things  like  that,  you  know,  must  be 

At  every  famous  victory. 

9. 
wThey  say  it  was  a  shocking3  sight,  after  the  field  was  won  ; 
For  many  thousand  bodies  here  lay  rotting  in  the  sun  ; 
But  things  like  that,  you  know,  must  be 
After  a  famous  victory. 
10. 
H  Great  praise  the  Duke  of  Marlbro'  won,  and  our  good  Prince 

Eugene'." 
M  "Why,  'twas  a  very  wicked  thing !"  said  little  Wilhelmine. 
"  Nay,  nay,  my  little  girl,"  quoth  he, 
"  It  was  a  famous  victory. 

11. 

u  And  everybody  praised  the  duke,  who  this  great  fight  did  win/ 

"  But  what  good  came  of  it  at  last  ?"  quoth  little  Peterkin. 

"Why,  that  I  can  not  tell,"  said  he  ; 

"  But  5t  was  a  famous  victory." 

Robert  Southey. 


SECTION    XXI. 
i. 

101.     THE    OBSERVING    JUDGE. 
PART  FIRST. 

IN  a  district  of  Algeria,4  there  lived,  in  the  year  1850,  an 
Arab 5  chief  or  sheik,  named  Bou-Akas,6  who  held  des- 
potic 7  sway  over  twelve  tribes. 

1  Wast'  ed,  destroyed  ;   brought  4  Algeria,  (al  je'  ri  a),  a  section  of 

to  ruin.  Northern  Africa. 

9  Hap'  less,  without  hap  or  luck  ■  ■  Arab,  (ar'  ab). 

unhappy  ;  luckless ;  unfortunate.  •  Bou-Akas,  (b6-a'  kas). 

»  Shock'  ing,  striking  with  hor-  «  Des  pot'  io,    having    complete 

ror  or  disgust ;  very  offensive.  mastery ;  confined  by  no  law. 


218  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

2.  Having  heard  that  the  cadi,  or  judge,  over  one  of  these 
twelve  tribes,  administered  justice  in  an  admirable  manner, 
and  pronounced  decisions  worthy  of  King  Solomon  himself, 
Bou-Akas  determined  to  judge  for  himself  as  to  the  truth ] 
of  the  report. 

3.  Accordingly,  dressed  like  a  private  individual,  without 
arms  or  attendants,  he  set  out  for  the  cadi's  town,  mounted 
on  a  docile 2  Arabian  steed.  He  arrived  there,  and  was  just 
entering  the  gate,  when  a  cripple,  seizing  the  border  cf  his 
mantle,  asked  him  for  alms.3 

4.  Bou-Akas  gave  him  money,  but  the  cripple  still  main- 
tained his  hold.  "  What  dost  thou  want  ?"  asked  the  eheik ; 
"  I  have  already  given  thee  alms."  "  Yes,"  replied  the  beg- 
gar ;  "  but  the  law  says,  not  only  '  thou  shalt  give  alms  to 
thy  brother,'  but,  also,  *  thou  shalt  do  for  thy  brother  what- 
soever thou  canst.' " 

5.  "  Well;  and  what  can  I  do  for  thee?"  "Thou  canst 
save  me — poor,  crawling  creature  that  I  am — from  being 
trodden  under  the  feet  of  men,  horses,  mules,  and  camels, 
which  would  certainly  happen  to  me  in  passing  through  the 
crowded  square,  in  which  a  fair  is  now  going  on." 

6.  "  And  how  can  I  save  thee  ?"  "  By  letting  me  ride 
behind  you,  and  putting  me  down  safely  in  the  market- 
place, where  I  have  business."  "  Be  it  so,"  replied  the 
sheik.  And  stooping  down,  he  helped  the  cripple  to  get  up 
behind  him  ;  which  was  not  accomplished 4  without  much 
difficulty. 

7.  The  strangely-assorted  couple  attracted  many  eyes  as 
they  passed  through  the  crowded  streets ;  and  at  length 
they  reached  the  market-place.  "  Is  this  where  you  wished 
to  stop?"  asked  Bou-Akas.  "Yes."  "Then  get  down." 
"Get  down  yourself."  "What  for?"  "To  leave  me  the 
horse." 

8.  "  To  leave  you  my  horse !     What  mean  you  by  that  ? 

1  Truth,  (tr6th).  relieve  the  poor,  as  money  food-  or 

•Docile,  (dos'il),  easily  taught  clothing, 

or  managed.  4  Ac  com'  plished,    brought    tc 

»  Alms,  (itmz),  anything  given  to  pass;  done. 


THE    OBSERVING   JUDGE.  219 

11  I  mean  that  he  belongs  to  me.  Know  you  not  that  we  are 
now  in  the  town  of  the  just  cadi,  and  that  if  we  bring  the 
case  before  him  he  will  certainly  decide  in  my  favor?" 
"  Why  should  he  do  so,  when  the  animal  belongs  to  me  ?" 

9.  "  Do  you  not  think  that  when  he  sees  us  two — you 
with  your  strong  straight  limbs,  so  well  fitted  for  walking, 
and  I  with  my  weak  legs  and  distorted l  feet — he  will  decree 
that  the  horse  shall  belong  to  him  who  has  most  need  of 
nim  ?"  "  Should  he  do  so,  he  would  not  be  the  just  cadi," 
said  Bou-Akas. 

10.  "  Oh !  as  to  that,"  replied  the  cripple  laughing,  "  al- 
though he  is  just,  he  is  not  infallible."2  "So!"  thought 
the  sheik  to  himself,  "  this  will  be  a  capital  opportunity  of 
judging  the  judge."  Then  turning  to  the  cripple,  he  said 
aloud,  "  I  am  content— we  will  go  before  the  cadi." 

n. 

102.    THE    OBSERVING    JUDGE. 
PAET  SECOND. 

A  REIVED  at  the  tribunal,3  where  the  judge,  according 
to  the  Eastern  custom,  was  publicly  administering 
justice,  they  found  that  two  trials  were  about  to  go  on,  and 
would,  of  course,  take  precedence4  of  theirs.  The  first 
was  between  a  taleb,  or  learned  man,  and  a  peasant.5 

2.  The  point  in  dispute  was  the  taleb's  wife,  whom  the 
peasant  had  carried  off,  and  whom  he  asserted 6  to  be  his 
own  better  half,  in  the  face  of  the  philosopher,  who  de- 
manded her  restoration.7     The  woman  (strange  cir'cum 

1  Dis  tort'  ed,    twisted    out    of  8  Peasant,  (pez'  ant),  a  country 

natural  or  regular  shape,  man  ;   one  of  the  lowest  class  ot 

8  In  fal'  li  ble,  sure  not  to  disap-  tillers  of  the  soil,  or  farm  laborers, 

point  or  fail ;  not  capable  of  erring,  in  Europe. 

a  Tri  bu'  nal,  the  seat  of  a  judge ;  6  As  sert'  ed,  affirmed  or  declared 

hence,  a  court  of  justice.  positively. 

4  Precedence,  (pre  sed'  ens),  a  7  Resv  to  ra'  tion,  the  act  of  res- 
going  before  ;  the  state  of  being  or  toring  or  bringing  back  to  a  former 
going  before  in  rank,  placf ,  or  order  state,  place,  or  condition,  or  the 
of  time.  event  of  being  restored. 


220  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

stance !)  remained  obstinately  silent,  and  would  not  declare 
for  either, — a  feature  in  the  case  which  rendered  its  decis- 
ion extremely  difficult. 

3.  The  cadi  heard  both  sides  attentively,  reflected  for  a 
moment,  and  then  said,  "  Leave  the  woman  here  and  return 
to-morrow."  The  learned  man  and  the  laborer  each  bowed 
and  retired,  and  the  next  case  was  called.  This  was  a  dif- 
ference between  a  butcher  and  an  oil-seller.  The  latter 
appeared  covered  with  oil,  and  the  former  was  sprinkled 
with  blood.     The  butcher  spoke  first,  and  said : 

4.  "  I  went  to  buy  some  oil  from  this  man,  and,  in  order 
to  pay  him  for  it,  I  drew  a  handful  of  money  from  my 
purse.  The  sight  of  the  money  tempted  him.  He  seized 
me  by  the  wrist.  I  cried  out,  but  he  would  not  let  me  go ; 
and  here  we  are,  having  come  before  your  worship,  I  hold- 
ing my  money  in  my  hand,  and  he  still  grasping  my  wrist." 

5.  Then  spoke  the  oil-merchant :  "  This  man  came  to 
purchase  oil  from  me.  "When  his  bottle  was  filled,  he  said, 
'Have  you  change  for  a  piece  of  gold?'  I  searched  my 
pocket,  and  drew  out  my  hand  full  of  money,  which  I  laid 
on  a  bench  in  my  shop.  He  seized  it,  and  was  walking  off 
wifh  my  money  and  my  oil,  when  I  caught  him  by  the 
wrist,  and  cried  out '  Eobber !'  In  spite  of  my  cries,  how- 
ever, he  would  not  surrender  the  money ;  so  I  brought  him 
here,  that  your  worship  might  decide  the  case." 

6.  The  cadi  caused  each  to  repeat  his  story,  bet  neither 
varied  one  jot  from  his  original1  statement.  He  reflected 
for  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Leave  the  money  wifh  me, 
and  return  to-morrow."  The  butcher  placed  the  coins,* 
which  he  had  never  let  go,  on  the  edge  of  the  cadi's  mantle. 
After  which  he  and  his  oppo'nent3  bowed  and  departed. 

7.  It  was  now  the  turn  of  Bou-Akas  aad  the  cripple* 
"My  lord  cadi,"  said  the  former,  "I  camo  hither4  from  a 
distant  country.     At  the  city  gate  I  met  this  cripple,  who 

1  O  rig'  in  al,  first ;  preceding  all  3  Op  po'  nant,  an  opposer ;  one 
others.  who  opposes  another  in  a  discussion 

2  Coin,  a  piece  of  stamped  money    or  dispute. 

made  of  gold,  silver,  or  other  metal.        *  Hith'  er  <so  this  ^lace. 


THE    OBSERVING  JUDGE.  221 

first  asked  for  alms,  and  then  prayed  me  to  allow  him  to 
ride  behind  me  through  the  streets,  lest  he  should  be  trod- 
den down  in  the  crowd.  I  consented,  but  when  we  reached 
the  market-place  he  refused  to  get  down,  asserting  that  my 
horse  belonged  to  him,  and  that  your  lordship  would  surely 
adjudge  it  to  him  who  wanted  it  most." 

8.  Then  spoke  the  cripple.  "  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  as  I 
was  coming  on  business  to  the  market,  and  riding  this 
horse,  which  belongs  to  me,  I  saw  this  man  seated  by  the 
roadside,  apparently  half  dead  from  fatigue.  I  offered  to 
let  him  ride  with  me  as  far  as  the  market-place,  and  he 
eagerly  thanked  me.  But,  on  our  arrival,  he  refused  to  get 
down,  and  said  that  the  horse  was  his.  I  immediately 
required  him  to  appear  before  your  worship,  in  order  that 
you  might  decide  between  us. 

9.  Having  required  each  to  make  oath  to  his  statement, 
and  having  reflected  for  a  moment,  the  cadi  said,  "  Leave 
the  horse  here,  and  return  to-morrow."  It  was  done,  and 
Bou-Akas  and  the  cripple  withdrew  in  different  directions. 

in. 

103.     THE    OBSERVING    JUDGE. 
PART  THIRD. 

ON  the  morrow,  a  number  of  persons,  besides  those  im- 
mediately interested  in  the  trials,  assembled  to  hear 
the  judge's  decisions.  The  taleb,  or  learned  man,  and  the 
peasant,  were  called  first.  "  Take  away  thy  wife,"  said  the 
cadi  to  the  former,  "  and  keep  her,  I  advise  thee,  in  good 
order."  Then  turning  toward  an  officer,  he  added,  point- 
ing to  the  peasant,  "  Give  this  man  fifty  blows.  He  was 
instantly  obeyed,  and  the  taleb  carried  off  his  wife. 

2.  Then  came  forward  the  oil-merchant  and  the  butcher. 
" Here,"  said  the  cadi  to  the  butcher,  "is  thy  money  ;  it  is 
truly  thine,  and  not  his."  Then  pointing  to  the  oil-mer- 
chant, he  said  to  his  officer,  "  Give  this  man  fifty  blows." 
It  was  done,  and  the  butcher  went  away  in  triumph  with 
his  money. 


222  NATIONAL    THIRD    EEADER. 

3.  The  third  cause  was  called,  and  Bou-Akas  and  the 
cripple  came  forward.  "  Wouldst  thou  rec'ognize  thy  horse 
among  twenty  others  ?"  said  the  judge  to  Bou-Akas.  "  Yes, 
my  lord."  "  And  thou  ?"  "  Certainly,  my  lord,"  rephed  the 
cripple.  "  Follow  me,"  said  the  cadi  to  Bou-Akas.  They 
entered  a  large  stable,  and  Bou-Akas  pointed  out  his  horse 
among  the  twenty  which  were  standing  side  by  side. 

4  "'Tis  well,"  said  the  judge.  "Beturn  now  to  the 
tribunal,  and  send  me  thine  adversary  !  hither."  The  dis- 
guised sheik  obeyed,  delivered  his  message,  and  the  cripple 
hastened  to  the  stable,  as  quickly  as  his  distorted  limbs 
allowed.  He  had  quick  eyes  and  a  good  memory,  so  that 
he  was  able,  without  the  slightest  hesitation,2  to  place  his 
hand  on  the  right  animal. 

5.  "  'Tis  well,"  said  the  cadi,  "  return  to  the  tribunal." 
The  cadi  soon  afterward  resumed  his  place,  and,  when  the 
cripple  arrived,  judgment  was  pronounced.  "  The  horse  is 
thine,"  said  the  cadi  to  Bou-Akas ;  "go  to  the  stable  and 
take  him."  Then  to  the  officer,  "  Give  this  cripple  fifty 
blows."    It  was  done ;  and  Bou-Akas  went  to  take  his  horse. 

6.  When  the  cadi,  after  concluding  the  business  of  the 
day,  was  retiring  to  his  house,  he  found  Bou-Akas  waiting 
for  him.  "Art  thou  discontented  with  my  award?"3  asked 
the  judge.  "No,  quite  the  contrary,"  rephed  the  sheik. 
"  But  I  want  to  ask  by  what  inspiration4  thou  hast  rendered 
justice ;  for  I  doubt  not  that  the  other  two  causes  were 
decided  as  equitably5  as  mine.  I  am  not  a  merchant;  I 
am  Bou-Akas,  a  sheik  of  the  twelve  tribes,  and  I  wanted 
to  judge  for  myself  of  thy  reputed  wisdom." 

7.  The  cadi  bowed  to  the  ground  and  kissed  his  master's 
hand.  "I  am  anxious,"  said  Bou-Akas,  "to  know  the 
reasons  which  determined  your  three  decisions."  "  Noth- 
ing, my  lord,"  rephed  the   cadi,  "can  be  more   simple. 

1  Ad'  ver  sa  ry,  enemy ;  one  op-  ing  influence  supposed  to  be  breathed 

posed  to  another.  into  a  person,  by  which  he  is  able  to 

*  Hes'  i  ta'  tion,  doubt ;  delay.  understand  and  declare  the  truth. 

3  A  ward',  judgment ;  sentence.  6  Equitably,  (ek'  -w!  ta  bH),  equal- 

4  Inx  spira  tion,  a  highly  excit-  handedly  or  justly. 


THE    OBSERVING  JUDGE.  223 

Your  highness  saw  that  I  detained  for  a  night  the  three 
things  in  dispute  ?"     "  I  did." 

8.  "  Well,  early  in  the  morning  I  caused  the  woman1  to 
be  called,  and  I  said  to  her,  suddenly, '  Put  fresh  ink  in  my 
inkstand.'  like  a  person  who  had  done  the  same  thing  a 
hundred  times  before,  she  took  the  bottle,  removed  the 
cotton,  washed  them  both,  put  in  the  cotton  again,  and 
poured  in  fresh  ink,  doing  it  all  with  the  utmost  neatness 
and  dexterity.2  So  I  said  to  myself,  'A  peasant's  wife 
would  know  nothing  about  inkstands — she  must  belong  to 
the  taleb.'  " 

9.  "Good!"  said  Bou-Akas,  nodding  his  head.  "And 
the  money?"  "Did  your  highness  remark,"  asked  the 
cadi,  "  that  the  merchant  had  his  clothes  and  hands  cov- 
ered wifh  oil?"  "Certainly  I  did."  "Well,  I  took  the" 
money,  and  placed  it  in  a  vessel  filled  with  water.  This 
morning  I  looked  at  it,  and  not  a  particle  of  oil  was  to  be 
seen  on  the  surface  of  the  water.  So  I  said  to  myself,  '  If 
this  money  belonged  to  the  oil-merchant,  it  would  be 
greasy,  from  the  touch  of  his  hands ;  as  it  is  not  so,  the 
butcher's  story  must  be  true.'  " 

10.  Bou-Akas  nodded  in  token  of  approval.  "Good!" 
said  he.  "  And  my  horse  ?"  "  Ah !  that  was  a  different 
business ;  and,  until  this  morning,  I  was  greatly  puzzled." 
"The  cripple,  I  suppose,  did  not  rec'ognize  the  animal?" 
remarked  the  sheik.  "On  the  contrary,"  said  the  cadi, 
"he  pointed  him  out  immediately."  "How,  then,  did  you 
discover  that  he  was  not  the  owner  ?" 

11.  "  My  object,"  replied  the  cadi,  "  in  bringing  you  sep- 
arately to  the  stable,  was  not  to  see  whether  you  would 
know  the  horse,  but  whether  the  horse  would  acknowledge 
you.  Now,  when  you  approached  him,  the  creature  turned) 
toward  you,  laid  back  his  ears,  and  neighed  with  delight  J 
but  when  the  cripple  touched  him,  he  kicked.  Then  I  knew 
that  you  were  truly  his  master." 

12.  Bou-Akas  thought  for   a  moment,  and  then  said: 

1  Woman,  (wiW  an).  and  ease  in  using  the  limbs ;  quick* 

*  Dex  ter'  i  ty,   readiness,  skill,      ness  and  skill. 


224:  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

"  Allah l  has  given  thee  great  wisdom.  Thou  oughtest  to 
be  in  my  place,  and  I  in  thine.  And  yet,  I  know  not ;  thou 
art  certainly  worthy  to  be  sheik,  but  I  fear  that  I  should 
but  badly  fill  thy  place  as  cadi." 


IV. 

104.     THE    KING    AND    THE    COTTAGER. 

1. 

PRAT  list  unto  a  legend 9  the  ancient 3  poets  tell ; 
'Tis  of  a  mighty*  monarch6  in  Persia6  once  did  dwell ; 
A  mighty  queer  old  monarch,  who  ruled  his  kingdom  well. 

2. 

u  I  must  build  another  palace," 7  observed  this  mighty  king ; 
"  For  this  is  getting  shabby  along  the  southern  wing ; 
And,  really,  for  a  monarch,  it  is  n't  quite  the  thing ! 

3. 

"  So  I  will  have  a  new  one,  although  I  greatly  fear 
To  build  it  just  to  suit  me  will  cost  me  rather  dear  ; 
And  I  '11  choose,  God  wot,8  another  spot  much  finer  than  this 
here!" 

4 

So  he  traveled  o'er  his  kingdom  a  proper  site 9  to  find, 
Where  he  might  build  a  palace  exactly  to  his  mind, 
All  with  a  pleasant  prospect M  before  it  and  behind. 

1  Al'lah,  the  true  or  only  God, —  ruler  ;  one  who  has  all  power;  the 
the  Arabic  name  of  the  Supreme  highest  ruler;  an  emperor,  king, 
Being,  or  God.  prince,  or  chief. 

2  Legend,  (le'  jend),  a  story  about  6  Persia,  (per'  sh!  a). 

saints  which  is  appointed  to  be  read ;  7  Pal'  ace,  a  very  large  and  costly 

any  remarkable  story  handed  down  house  in  which  an  emperor,  a  king, 

from  early  times.  or  other  distinguished  person  dwells. 

8  Ancient,  (an'  shent),  old  ;  that  8  "Wot,  to  be  aware  ;  knows, 

happened  or  lived  very  many  years  *  Site,  situation ;  the  place  where 

ago  ;  early.  any  thing  is  fixed. 

4  Might'  y,  very  great ;    having  10  Pros'  pect,    view  ;    region    or 

great  power.  field  which  the  eye    overlooks  at 

6  Monarch,    (mon'ark),    a    sole  onetime. 


THE    KING    AND    THE    COTTAGE&  225 

5. 

Not  far  with  this  endeavor  the  king  had  traveled  round, 
Ere,  to  his  royal  pleasure,  a  charming  spot  he  found  ; 
But  an  ancient  widow's  hovel  was  standing  on  the  ground. 

6. 
"  Ah !  here,"  exclaimed  the  monarch,  "  is  just  the  proper  spotj 
If  this  woman  would  allow  me  to  remove  her  little  cot ;" 
Bat  the  beldam1  answered  plainly,  she'd  rather  he  would  not  I 

7. 
"  Within  this  lowly  cottage,  great  monarch,  I  was  born  ; 
And  only  from  this  cottage  by  Death  will  I  be  torn  ; 
So  spare  it,  in  your  justice,  or  spoil  it,  in  your  scorn  I"* 

8. 
Then  all  the  courtiers 3  mocked  her  with  cruel  words  and  jeers  j 
"  'T  is  plain  her  royal  master  she  neither  loves  nor  fears  ; 
We  would  knock  her  ugly  hovel  about  her  ugly  ears ! 

9. 
"  When  e.ver  was  a  subject  who  might  the  king  withstand  ? 
Or  deem  his  spoken  pleasure  as  less  than  his  command  ? 
Of  course  he  '11  rout  the  beldam,  and  confiscate 4  her  land  I" 

10. 
But,  to  their  deep  amazement,6  his  Majesty  replied  ; 
"  Good  woman,  never  heed  them,  the  king  is  on  your  side  ; 
Your  cottage  is  your  castle,  and  here  you  shall  abide ! 

11. 
"  To  raze 6  it  in  a  moment  the  power  is  mine,  I  grant ; 
My  absolute '  dominion 8  a  hundred  poets  chant, — 
For  being  Khan*  of  Persia,  there's  nothing  that  I  can't! 

1  Bel'  dam,    grandmother  ;    any  dition  of  being  filled  with  fear,  sud 

old  woman,  especially  an  ugly  or  den  surprise,  or  wonder,  at  what  is 

homely  one.  not  understood. 

8  Scorn,   the  act  of  treating  as  6  Haze,  to  overthrow  ;  to  lay  level 

most  mean,  vile,  and  worthless.  with  the  ground  ;  to  destroy. 

8  Courtier,    (k6rt'yer),  one  who  7  Ab' so  lute,  freed  or  loosed  iron; 

frequents  or  attends  the  palace  of  a  all  bounds  or  conditions, 

monarch  or  other  high  person ;  one  8  Dominion,    (do  min'  yun),    au< 

who  flatters  to  release,  thority  ;  rule  ;  the  power  of  control- 

4  Con'  fis  cate,  to  take,  as  a  pun-  ling  and  governing. 

lshment,  for  the  public  use.  9  Khan,  (kan),  a  chief,  prince,  or 

5  A  maze'  ment,  the  act  or  con-    king 


226  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

12. 

(T  was  in  this  pleasant  fashion  the  gracious  monarch  spoke ; 
For  kings  have  merry  fancies,  like  other  mortal  folk  ; 
And  none  so  high  and  mighty  but  loves  his  little  joke.) 

13. 
u  But  power  is  scarcely  worthy  of  honor  or  applause, 
That  in  its  domination '  contemns  the  widow's  cause, 
Or  perpetrates9  injustice  by  trampling  on  the  laws. 

14. 
*  That  I  have  wronged  the  weakest,  no  honest  tongue  may  say 
So  bide  you  in  your  cottage,  good  woman,  while  you  may ; 
What  's  yours  by  deed  and  purchase,  no  man  may  take  away  I 

15. 
"  And  I  will  build  beside  it ;  for  though  your  cot  may  be 
In  such  a  goodly  presence  no  fitting  thing  to  see, 
If  it  honor  not  my  castle,  it  will  surely  honor  me ! 

16. 
"For  so  my  loyal8  people,  who  gaze  upon  the  sight, 
Shall  know  that  in  oppression  I  do  not  take  delight, 
Nor  hold  a  king's  convenience  before  a  subject's  right  1" 

17. 

Now  from  his  spoken  purpose  the  king  departed  not ; 
He  built  the  royal  dwelling  upon  the  chosen  spot ; 
And  there  they  stood  together,  the  palace  and  the  cot ! 

18. 
Sure  such  unseemly4  neighbors  were  never  seen  before  ; 
"  His  Majesty  is  doting !" 6  some  silly  courtiers  swore  ; 
But  all  true  loyal  subjects,  they  loved  the  king  the  more 

19. 
Long,  long  he  ruled  his  kingdom  in  honor  and  renown  ; 
But  danger  ever  threatens  the  head  that  wears  a  crown  ; 
And  Fortune,  tired  of  smiling,  for  once  put  on  a  frown. 

1  Dom-  I  na'  tlon,    exercise    of  faithful  to  a  friend  or  lover, 

power  in  ruling.  4  TJn  seem  ly,  not  fit  or  becoming. 

•  Per'  pe  trate,  to  do  or  perform  ■  Doting,  (dot'  ing),  acting  like  a 
a  hurtful  act ;  to  be  guilty  of.  silly  or  weak-minded  person  ;  becom* 

•  Loy'  al,  devoted  to  the  support  ing  silly  or  weak-minded  on  account 
of  law ;  faithful  to  the  rightful  ruler  •  of  old  age. 


HASTY    JUDGMENT.  227 

20. 
For  ever  secret  envy  attends  a  high  estate  ; 
And  ever  lurking  malice  pursues  the  good  and  great ; 
And  ever  base  ambition  will  end  in  deadly  hate. 

21. 

And  so  two  wicked  courtiers,  who  long  had  strove  in  vain, 
By  craft '  and  evil  counsels,  to  mar  the  monarch's  reign, 
Contrived  a  scheme  infernal3  whereby  he  should  be  slain 

22. 
But,  as  all  deeds  of  darkness  are  wont  to  leave  a  clew 
Before  the  glaring  sunlight  to  bring  the  knaves  to  view, 
That  sin  may  be  rewarded,  and  Satan  get  his  due, — 

23. 
To  plan  their  wicked  treason 8  they  sought  a  lonely  spot 
Behind  the  royal  palace,  hard  by  the  widow's  cot, 
"Who  heard  their  machinations,*  and  straight  revealed  the  plot! 

24. 
"  I  see,"  exclaimed  the  Persian,  "  the  just  are  wise  alone  ; 
Who  spares  the  rights  of  others  may  chance  to  guard  his  own ; 
The  widow's  humble  cottage  has  propped  a  monarch's  throne  I" 

John  Q.  Saxb. 

♦V. 

105.    HASTY   JUDGMENT. 

PART  FIRST. 

BELFOBD.  Sir,  who  is  the  present  owner  of  the  Brook- 
by  estate.5 
Arbury.  A  man  by  the  name  of  Goodwin. 
Bel,  Is  he  a  good  neighbor  to  you  ? 

1  Craft/ (kr&ft),  low  cunning,  art,  the  act  of  planning-  a  scheme  for 

or  skill.  doing    some    evil   thing ;   the  evil 

3  In  fer'nal,  hellish ;  very  wicked,  scheme  that  is  planned. 

8  Treason,  (tr&'  zn),  making  war  6  Estate',  a    property  which   a 

against  the  government,  or  aiding  person  owns  •  property  of  all  kind 

Its  enemies  ;  the  killing  of  the  mon-  which  a  person  leaves  to  be  divided 

arch,  or  trying  to  take  his  life.  at  his  death ;  especially,  property 

*  Machination,  f  makr  i  na'  eh&n),  in  land. 


228  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Ar,  Far  from  it ;  and  I  wish  he  had  settled  a  hundred 
miles  off;  for  he  will  surely  spoil  our  neighborhood. 

Bel.  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that ;  but  what  is  your  objection 
to  him? 

Ar.  Oh,  there  is  nothing  in  which  we  agree.  In  the  first 
place,  he  is  quite  on  the  other  side  in  politics ;  and  that, 
you  know,  is  enough  to  prevent  all  intimacy.1 

Bel.  I  am  not  exactly  of  that  opinion ;  but  what  further 
objection  have  you  ? 

Ar.  He  is  no  sportsman,  and  refuses  to  join  in  our  asso- 
ciation for  protecting  the  game.  Neither  does  he  choose 
to  be  a  member  of  any  of  our  clubs. 

Bel.  Has  he  been  asked  ? 

Ar.  I  don't  know  that  he  has  directly;  but  he  might 
easily  propose  himself  if  he  chose ;  but  he  possesses  an 
unsocial  disposition,  and,  I  believe,  is  very  niggardly. 

Bel.  How  has  he  shown  it  ? 

Ar.  His  style  of  living  is  not  equal  to  his  wealth ;  and  I 
have  heard  of  several  instances  of  his  closeness  in  his 
dealings. 

Bel.  Perhaps  he  spends  his  money  in  charity. 

Ar.  Not  he,  I  dare  say ;  for  last  week  a  poor  fellow,  who 
had  lost  his  all  by  fire,  went  to  him  with  a  subscription 
paper,  having  on  it  the  names  of  all  the  gentlemen  in  the 
neighborhood ;  and  all  the  answer  he  got  was,  that  he  would 
consider  it. 

Bel.  Well,  did  he  consider  it  ? 

Ar.  I  don't  know ;  but  I  suppose  it  was  only  an  excuse. 
Then  his  predecessor 2  had  a  park  of  deer,  and  used  to 
make  liberal  presents  of  venison3  to  all  his  neighbors.  But 
this  frugaV  gentleman  has  sold  them  all  off,  and  got  a  flock 
of  sheep  instead. 

1  In'  ti  ma  cy,  the  state  of  being  place,  office,  or  the  like ;  one  whom 

close  or  familiar  in  friendship  or  another  follows  or  comes  after, 

acquaintance  ;    nearness  in  friend-  3  Venison,  (ven  zn),  flesh  of  deer 

ship.  *  Frugal,  (frS'  gal),  careful ;  pru- 

3  Pred  e  ces'  sor,  one  who  went  dent ;  saving  of  expenses  without 

before  another  and  held  the  same  meanness. 


HASTY    JUDGMENT.  229 

Bel.  I  don't  see  much  harm  in  that  now  mutton  is  so  dear. 

Ar.  To  be  sure,  he  has  a  right  to  do  as  he  pleases  with, 
his  park ;  but  that  is  not  the  way  to  be  popular,  you  know. 
As  to  myself,  I  have  reason  to  think  he  bears  me  particular 
ill-will. 

Bel.  Then  he  is  clearly  in  the1  wrong  ;2  for  I  believe  you 
are  as  free  from  ill-will  to  others  as  any  man  living,  But 
how  has  he  shown  it  ? 

Ar.  In  many  ways.  He  had  a  horse  upon  sale  the  other 
day,  to  which  I  took  a  liking,  and  began  to  bid  for  it.  As 
soon  as  he  found  I  was  bidding,  he  sent  it  off  to  a  fair  on 
the  other  side  of  the  county.  My  wife,  as  you  know,  is 
passionately  fond  of  cultivating  flowers.  Biding  lately  by 
his  garden,  she  observed  something  new,  and  wished  to  get 
a  root  or  cutting  from  it.  My  gardener  told  his  about  it, 
and  he  told  his  employer ;  but,  instead  of  obliging  her,  he 
charged  the  gardener  on  no  account  to  touch  the  plant. 

A  little  while  ago,  too,  I  turned  off  a  man  for  being 
saucy ; 3  but,  as  he  had  lived  many  years  with  me,  and  was 
a  very  useful  servant,  I  meant  to  take  him  again  whenever 
he  would  confess  his  fault,  which  I  did  not  doubt  would 
soon  happen.  Instead  of  that,  he  goes  and  offers  himself 
to  my  civil  neighbor,  who,  without  deigning  to  apply  to  me 
even  for  a  recommendation,  immediately  employed  him. 
In  short,  he  has  not  the  least  mark  of  a  gentleman  about 
him ;  and  I  would  give  almost  any  thing  to  be  rid  of  him. 

Bel.  Nothing,  to  be  sure,  can  be  more  unpleasant  in  the 
country  than  a  bad  neighbor ;  and  I  am  sorry  that  it  is  your 
lot  to  have  one.  But  there  comes  a  man  who  appears  as  if 
he  desired  to  speak  with  you.     [Enter  a  Countkyman.] 

At.  Ah,  that  is  the  poor  fellow  that  was  burned  out ! 
Well,  Bichard,  how  do  you  get  along  ?  How  large  a  sub- 
scription have  you  got  ? 

Bichard.  Thank  your  honor,  so  large  that  nearly  all  my 
losses  are  made  up. 

1  The,  (thu),  see  Rule  3,  p.  24  dent ;   not  observing  the  rules  of 

2  "Wrong,  (r&ng),  see  Note  2,  p.  16.    common  politeness  ;  not  respectful 
*  Saucy,  (sd'  si),  too  bold  ;  impu-    to  superiors 


230  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Ar.  I  am  very  glad  of  that;  but  when  I  saw  the  papei 
last,  they  were  not  half  made  up. 

Bich.  True,  sir ;  but  you  may  remember  asking  me  what 
Mr.  Goodwin  had  subscribed,  and  I  told  you  that  he  wanted 
time  to  consider  it.  Well,  sir,  I  found  that  he  had  been 
to  our  town,  and  had  made  many  inquiries  of  my  neigh- 
bors about  me  and  my  losses.  "When  I  called  on  him  a 
few  days  after,  he  told  me  he  was  very  glad  to  learn  that  I 
bore  so  good  a  character,  and  that  the  neighbors  had  so 
kindly  assisted  me ;  and  he  said  that  I  need  go  no  further 
for  relief.  He  then  gave  me  (God  bless  him !)  a  draft  upon 
his  banker  for  fifty  pounds. 

Ar.  Fifty  pounds ! 

Bich.  Yes,  sir.  It  has  made  me  quite  my  own  man 
again ;  and  I  am  now  going  to  purchase  a  new  cart  and  a 
span  of  horses. 

Ar.  A  noble  gift,  indeed !  I  could  never  have  thought 
it.  "Well,  Richard,  I  rejoice  at  your  good  luck.  I  am  sure 
you  are  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Goodwin. 

Bich.  Indeed  I  am,  sir,  and  to  all  my  good  friends. 
Good-day,  gentlemen.     [He  goes  on.] 

Bel.  Niggardliness,1  at  least,  is  not  this  man's  fault. 

Ar.  No  ;  I  was  mistaken  on  that  point,  I  wronged  him ; 
and  I  am  sorry  for  it.  But  what  a  pity  it  is  that  men  so 
generous  should  not  be  amiable  in  their  manners,  and  be 
as  ready  to  oblige  in  trifles  as  in  matters  of  consequence ! 

Bel.  True  ;  it  is,  when  that  is  really  the  case. 

Ar.  How  much  easier  to  have  shown  some  civility  about 
a  horse  or  a  flower  plant ! 

Bel.  By  the  way,  there  comes  your  gardener,  carrying  a 
large  plant  in  a  pot.     [Enter  Gardener] 

Ar.  Now,  James,  what  have  you  got  there  ? 

James.  A  flower  for  your  wife ;  a  present  from  Mr 
Goodwin. 

Ar.  How  did  you  come  by  it  ? 

Ja.  His  man  told  me  to  come  for  it.     We  should  have 

1  Nig'  gard  li  ness,  the  state  of  cent  and  giving  nothing  for  charity 
being  meanly  close, — sav'iDg  every 


HASTY    JUDGMENT. 


231 


had  it  before>  but  Mr.  Goodwin  thought  it  could  not  be 
moved  safely  till  now. 

Ar.  I  hope  he  has  more  of  the  same  kind. 

Ja.  He  has  only  a  seedling  plant  or  two,  sir ;  but,  hear- 
ing that  your  wife  would  like  to  get  a  plant  of  that  kind,  he 
resolved  to  send  it  to  her ;  and.  a  choice  thing  it  is  I  I  have 
a  note  for  her,  too,  in  my  pocket. 

Ar.  Well,  go  on.     [Gardener  goes  on.] 

Bel.  I  think,  surely,  that  this  does  not  look  like  defi- 
ciency l  in  civility.2 

1  Deficiency,  (de  flsh'  en  si),  the  s  Civility,  (si  vfl'  i  tf),  politeness; 
state  of  not  having  enough  ;  want,      good  breeding. 


232  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Ar,  No  ;  it  is  a  very  polite  action,  I  can  not  deny  it ;  and 
I  am  obliged  to  him  for  it.  Perhaps  he  may  feel  that  he 
owes  me  a  little  amends.1 

Bel.  Possibly ;  but  it  shows  that  he  can  feel,  however. 

VI. 

106.    HASTY   JUDGMENT. 

PAET  SECOND. 

ABBHRY.  Ha !  there  comes  Thomas  with  a  string  of 
horses  from  the  fair.  I'll  step  up  and  speak  to  him. 
Well,  Thomas,  how  have  horses  gone  at  Market  Hill  ? 

Thomas.  Dear  enough,  your  honor. 

Ar.  How  much  more  did  you  get  for  Mr.  Goodwin's 
horse  than  I  offered  for  him  ? 

Th.  Ah,  sir,  that  was  no  horse  for  you  to  ride !  and  that 
Mr.  Goodwin  well  knew.  You  never  saw  one  more  vicious2 
and  ugly.  He  came  near  killing  the  groom  two  or  three 
times ;  so  I  was  ordered  to  offer  him  to  the  mail-coach  peo- 
ple, and  get  what  I  could  for  him.  I  might  have  sold  him 
better  if  Mr.  Goodwin  would  have  let  me ;  for  he  was  a 
noble  horse  to  look  at ;  besides,  he  was  perfectly  sound. 

Ar.  "Was  that  the  true  reason,  Thomas,  why  the  horse 
was  not  sold  to  me  ? 

Th.  It  was,  indeed,  sir. 

Ar.  Then  I  am  highly  obliged  to  Mr.  Goodwin.  [Thomas 
goes  on.]     This  was  very  kind  and  honorable  in  him,  indeed ! 

Belford.  Yes ;  I  think  it  was  something  more  than  polite- 
ness,— it  was  real  goodness  of  heart. 

Ar.  It  was.  I  find  I  must  alter  my  opinion  of  him ;  and 
I  do  it  with  pleasure.  But,  after  all,  his  conduct  with 
respect  to  my  servant  is  very  strange. 

Bel.  I  see  reason  to  think  so  well  of  him  on  the  whole,  that 
I  am  inclined  to  think  he  has  done  right  in  this  matter  too. 

Ar.  There  the  fellow  comes  now.     I  wonder  if  he  has 

my  old  clothes  on  yet.     [Edwakd  approaches.'] 

. . — , —         ■ 

J  Amends,  (&m£ndz'),  satisfaction  a  Vicious,  ( vlsh'  us ),  not  well 
for  a  toss  or  injury.  tamed  or  broken  ;  unruly. 


HASTY    JUDGMENT.  2*"$ 

Edward.  Sir,  I  was  coming  to  your  honor. 

Arn  "What  can  you  have  to  say  to  me  now  ? 

Ed.  I  want  to  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  my  ill-conduct, 
and  beg  you  to  take  me  again. 

Ar.  What !  have  you  so  soon  parted  from  your  new  master? 

Ed.  Mr.  Goodwin  never  was  my  master,  sir.  He  only 
kept  me  in  his  house  till  I  could  make  up  wifli  you  again; 
for  he  said  he  was  sure  you  were  too  honorable  a  gentle- 
man to  turn  off  an  old  servant  without  good  reason ;  and 
he  hoped  you  would  accept  of  my  excuses  after  your  anger 
was  over. 

At.  Did  he  say  all  that  ? 

Ed.  Yes,  sir ;  and  he  advised  me  to  go  back  and  ask 
your  pardon. 

At.  Well,  go  to  the  house,  and  we  will  talk  it  over  when 
I  return.     [Edwakd  goes  on.] 

Bel.  Now,  my  friend,  what  think  you  of  this  ? 

Ar.  I  think  more  than  I  can  well  express.  It  will  be  a 
lesson  to  me  never  to  judge  hastily  again. 

Bel.  "Why,  indeed,  to  have  concluded  that  such  a  man 
had  nothing  of  the  gentleman  about  him,  must  have  been 
rather  hasty. 

Ar.  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  it  is  unfortunate  that  these 
reserved  characters  are  so  long  in  making  themselves 
known.  Still,  when  they  are  known,  they  diten  prove  very 
es'timable *  men.  I  am  afraid,  even  now,  that  I  shall  have 
to  keep  him  at  a  distance. 

Bel.  Why  so? 

Ar.  You  know  I  am  an  open,  social  man,  and  like  to  have 
my  neighbors  so  too. 

Bel.  Perhaps  he  is  so. 

Ar.  If  he  were,  we  should  have  been  better  acquainted 
before  this  time. 

Bel.  It  may  have  been  prejudice,  rather  than  want  of 
sociability,2  that  has  kept  you  apart. 

1  Es'  ti  ma  ble,  valuable ;  worthy  disposition  for  society  or  company ; 
of  regard  or  esteem.  the  disposition  to  converse  and  be 

'  Sociability,  (so'  sha  btl'  i  ti),  the    familiar. 


234  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Ar.  Possibly  so.  That  vile  spirit  of  party  has  such  sway 
in  the  country,  that  men  of  the  most  liberal  dispositions 
can  hardly  free  themselves  from  its  influence.  Yonder 
comes  an  instance  of  its  pernicious '  effects. 

Bel.  Who  is  he? 

Ar.  A  poor  schoolmaster  wrfri  a  large  family,  who  has 
lost  all  his  scholars  by  his  activity  on  our  side  in  the  last 
election.  I  heartily  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  do  some- 
thing for  him ;  for  he  is  a  very  honest  man,  though,  per- 
haps, rather  too  zealous.  [Enter  Schoolmasteb.]  Well, 
Mr.  Penman,  how  go  the  times  with  you  ? 

Penman.  I  thank  you,  sir,  they  have  gone  poorly  enough ; 
but  they  are  now  in  the  way  to  mend. 

Ar.  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ;  but  how  ? 

Pen.  Why,  sir,  the  free-school  of  Stoke  is  vacant ;  and  I 
believe  I  am  likely  to  get  it. 

Ar.  Ah,  I  wonder  at  that!  I  thought  it  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  other  party. 

Pen.  It  is,  sir ;  but  Mr.  Goodwin  has  been  so  kind  as  to 
give  me  a  recommendation ;  and  his  interest  is  sufficient  to 
carry  it. 

Ar.  Mr.  Goodwin !     You  surprise  me. 

Pen.  I  was  much  surprised,  too,  sir.  He  sent  for  me  of 
his  own  accord,  and  told  me  he  was  sorry  that  a  man  should 
be  injured  in  his  profession  on  account  of  party ;  and,  as  I 
could  not  live  comfortably  where  I  was,  he  would  try  and 
settle  me  in  a  better  place.  So  he  mentioned  the  vacancy 
of  Stoke,  and  offered  me  letters  to  the  trustees.  I  was 
never  so  affected  in  my  life ;  I  could  hardly  control  myself 
sufficiently  to  thank  him.  He  invited  me  to  dine  with  him, 
and  treated  me  with  the  greatest  respect.  Indeed,  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  a  kinder  man  living  than  Mr.  Goodwin. 

Ar.  You  have  the  best  reason  in  the  world  to  say  so,  Mr. 
Penman.     But  did  he  converse  familiarly  with  you? 

Pen.  Most  certainly  he  did,  sir.  We  talked  a  great  deal 
about  party  affairs  in  this  neighborhood ;  and  he  very  much 

1  Pernicious,  (per  nfsh'  us),  hav-  ing,  or  injuring ;  very  injurious  or 
ing  the  quality  of  killing,  destroy-    mischievous ;  destructive. 


WISDOM    UNAPPLIED.  235 

regretted  that  differences  of  this  kind  should  keep  worthy 
men  at  a  distance  from  each  other.  I  took  the  liberty,  sir, 
to  mention  your  name.  He  said  he  had  not  the  honor  of 
being  acquainted  with  you ;  but  he  had  a  sincere  esteem 
for  your  character,  and  should  be  very  glad  to  be  on 
friendly  terms  with  you.  For  my  part,  I  confess,  to  ,my 
shame,  that  I  did  not  think  there  could  have  been  such  a 
man  on  that  side. 

Ar.  Well, — good-morning. 

Pen.  Your  most  obedient,  sir.     [He  goes  on.] 

Ar.  Come,  my  friend,  let  us  go. 

Bel.  "Where? 

Ar.  To  Mr.  Goodwin's,  to  be  sure.  After  all  I  have  heard, 
I  can  not  refrain  longer  from  going  to  him,  and  acknowledg- 
ing the  injustice  I  have  done  him,  and  begging  his  friendship. 

Bel.  I  shall  be  happy,  I  am  sure,  to  go  with  you  on  that 
errand.     But  who  is  to  introduce  us  ? 

Ar.  Oh,  what  are  the  form  and  ceremony  in  a  case  like 
this !     Come,  come ! 

Bel.  Most  willingly,  sir.     [They  go  out] 

vn. 

107.     WISDOM    UNAPPLIED. 

IF  I  were  thou,  O  butterfly, 
And  poised  my  purple  wings  to  spy 
The  sweetest  flowers  that  live  and  die, 
I  would  not  waste  my  strength  on  those, 
As  thou, — for  summer  hath  a  close, 
And  pansies  bloom  not  in  the  snows. 

2.   If  I  were  thou,  O  working  bee, 
And  all  that  honey-gold  I  see 
Could  delve  from  roses  easily ; 
I  would  not  hive  it  at  man's  door, 
As  thou, — that  heirdom !  of  my  store 
Should  make  him  rich,  and  leave  me  poor. 

1  Heirdom,  (ar'  dum),  the  state  of  the  right  to  succeed  to  the  property 
one  who  inherits,  receives,  or  has    of  an  owner  after  his  death. 


236  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  If  I  were  thou,  O  eagle  proud, 

And  screamed  the  thunder  back  aloud, 
And  faced  the  lightning  from  the  cloud ; 
I  would  not  build  my  eyrie 1  throne, 
As  thou, — upon  a  crumbling  stone, 
Which  the  next  storm  may  trample  down. 

4.  If  I  were  thou,  O  gallant  steed, 
With  pawing  hoof,2  and  dancing  head, 
And  eye  outrunning  thine  own  speed ; 
I  would  not  meeken  to  the  rein, 

As  thou,  nor  smooth  my  nostril  plain 
From  the  glad  desert's  snort  and  strain. 

6.   If  I  were  thou,  red-breasted  bird, 
"With  song  at  shut  up  window  heard, 
Like  Love's  sweet  Yes  too  long  deferred ; 
I  would  not  overstay  delight, 
As  thou, — but  take  a  swallow-flight, 
Till  the  new  spring  returned  to  sight. 

6.  While  yet  I  spake,  a  touch  was  laid 
Upon  my  brow,  whose  pride  did  fade, 
As  thus,  methought,  an  angel  said : 

'  If  I  were  thou  who  sing'st  this  song, 
Most  wise  for  others ;  and  most  strong 
In  seeing  right  while  doing  wrong ; 

7.  '  I  would  not  waste  my  cares,  and  choose, 
As  thou, — to  seek  what  thou  must  lose, 
Such  gains  as  perish  in  the  use. 

I  would  not  work  where  none  can  win,     . 
As  thou, — half  way  'twixt  grief  and  sin, 
But  look  above,  and  judge  wiliin. 

8.  '  I  would  not  let  my  pulse  beat  high, 
As  thou, — toward  fame's  regality,3 
Nor  yet  in  love's  great  jeopardy.4 

1  Eyrie,  (a'  ri),  the  place  where        2  Re  gal'  i  ty,  royalty ;  the  state 

birds  of  prey  build  their  nests  and  of  being  kingly  or  noble, 
hatch  their  young.  3  Jeopardy,  (jep'  ard !),  exposure 

'  Hoof,  (hflf).  to  death,  loss,  or  injury ;  danger. 


EYES,    OR    NO    EYES.  237 

I  would  not  champ  the  hard  cold  bit, 
As  thou, — of  what  the  world  thinks  fit, 
But  take  God's  freedom,  using  it. 

I I  would  not  play  earth's  winter  out, 
As  thou  ;  but  gird  my  soul  about, 
And  live  for  life  past  death  and  doubt. 
Then  sing,  O  singer ! — but  allow 
Beast,  fly,  and  bird,  called  foolish  now, 
Are  wise  (for  all  thy  scorn)  as  thou !' 

Elizabeth  Babbett  Bbownhtcl 


vm. 

108.     EYES,    OR    NO    EYES. 
PAKT  FIEST. 

WELL,  Bobert,  where  have  you  been  walking,  this 
afternoon  ?  said  a  tutor  to  one  of  his  pupils,  at  the 
close  of  a  holiday. 

Bobert  I  have  been  to  Broom-heath,  and  so  round  by 
the  windmill,  upon  Camp-mount,  and  home,  through  the 
meadows  by  the  river-side. 

Tutor.  Well,  that  is  a  pleasant  round. 

Bob.  I  thought  it  very  dull,  sir ;  I  scarcely  met  with  a 
single  person.  I  would  much  rather  have  gone  along  the 
turnpike  road. 

Tu.  Why,  if  seeing  men  and  horses  is  your  object,  you 
would,  indeed,  be  better  entertained  on  the  high  road.  But 
did  you  see  William  ? 

Bob.  We  set  out  together,  but  he  lagged  behind  in  the 
lane,  so  I  walked  on  and  left  him. 

Tu.  That  was  a  pity.  He  would  have  been  company 
for  you. 

Bob.  Oh!  he  is  so  tedious,  always  stopping  to  look  at 
this  thing  and  that ;  I  would  rather  walk  alone.  I  dare  say 
he  has  not  got  home  yet. 

Tu.  Here  he  comes.  Well,  William,  where  have  you  been  ? 

WiUiam.  Oh,  the  pleasantest  walk!     I  went  all  over 


238  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Broom-heath,  and  so  up  to  the  mill  at  the  top  of  the  mount, 
and  then  down  among  the  green  meadows  by  the  side  of 
the  river. 

Tu.  Why,  that  is  just  the  round  Eobert  has  been  taking ; 
and  he  complains  of  its  dullness,  and  prefers  the  high  road. 

Wm.  I  wonder  at  that.  I  am  sure  I  hardly  took  a  step 
that  did  not  delight  me,  and  I  have  brought  home  my 
handkerchief  full  of  curiosities.1 

Tu.  Suppose,  then,  you  give  us  an  account  of  what 
amused  you  so  much.  I  fancy  it  will  be  as  new  to  Eobert 
as  to  me, 

Wm.  I  will  do  it  readily.  The  lane  leading  to  the  heath, 
you  know,  is  close  and  sandy ;  so  that  I  did  not  mind  it 
much,  but  made  the  best  of  my  way ;  however,  I  spied  a 
curious  thing  enough  in  the  hedge.  It  was  an  old  crab-tree, 
out  of  which  grew  a  great  bunch  of  something  green,  quite 
different  from  the  tree  itself.     Here  is  a  branch  of  it. 

Tu,  Ah !  this  is  mistletoe  ; 2  a  plant  of  great  fame  for  the 
use  made  of  it  by  the  Druids3  of  old,  in  their  religious 
rites 4  and  incantations.5  It  bears  a  slimy  white  berry,  of 
which  bird-lime 6  is  made,  whence  its  Latin  name  of  viscus. 
It  is  one  of  those  plants  which  do  not  grow  in  the  ground 
by  a  root'  of  their  own,  but  fix  themselves  upon  other 
plants ;  whence  they  have  been  humorously  styled  "  para- 
sitical," as  being  hangers-on  or  dependents.  It  was  the 
mistletoe  of  the  oak  that  the  Druids  particularly  honored. 

Wm.  A  little  further  on  I  saw  a  green  wood-pecker  fly 
to  a  tree,  and  run  up  the  trunk  like  a  cat. 

Tu.  That  was  to  seek  for  insects  in  the  bark,  on  which 

1  Cuv  ri  os'  i  ty,  any  thing  that  is  Their  religious  ceremonies  were  son- 
curious,  or  fitted  to  excite  or  reward  ducted  in  consecrated  groves, 
attention.  *  Rite,  observance  ;  ceremony. 

2  Mistletoe,  (mlz'  zl  t6).  5  In  can  ta'  tion,  act  of  enchant- 

3  Druids,  (dro'  idz),  the  priests  or  ing  ;  foretelling  or  causing  an  event 
ministers   of    religion,   among    the  by  the  supposed  aid  of  evil  spirits, 
ancient  Celtic  nations  in  Gaul,  Brit-        6  Bird-lime,  (blrd'llm),  a  glutinous 
ain,  and  Germany.     The  sacrifice  of  or  sticky  substance  used  for  catch- 
human  victims  is  generally  believed  ing  birds. 

to  have  been  a  part  of  their  worship.        T  Root,  (rot). 


EYES,  OH    NO    EYES. 

-      5 


&ft 


they  live.     They  bore  holes  with  their  strong  bills  for  that 
purpose,  and  do  much  damage  to  the  trees  by  it. 

Wm.  When  I  got  upon  the  open  heath,  how  charming  it 
was !  The  air  seemed  so  fresh,  and  the  prospect  on  every 
side  so  free  and  unbounded !  Then  it  was  all  covered  with 
gay  flowers,  many  of  which  I  had  never  observed  before. 
There  was  a  flock  of  lapwings  upon  a  marshy  part  of  the 
heath,  that  amused  me  much.  As  I  came  near  them,  some 
of  them  kept  flying  round  and  round,  just  over  my  head, 
and  crying  "  pewit,"  so  distinctly  one  might  almost  fancy 


240  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

they  spoke.  I  thought  I  should  have  caught  one  of  them, 
for  he  flew  as  if  one  of  his  wings  was  broken,  and  often 
tumbled  close  to  the  ground ;  but  as  I  came  near  he  always 
contrived  to  get  away. 

Tu.  Ha,  ha !  you  were  finely  taken  in,  then !  This  was 
all  an  artifice1  of  the  bird's  to  entice  you  away  from  its 
nest;  for  they  build  upon  the  bare  ground,  and  their  nest 
would  easily  be  observed  did  they  not  draw  off  the  attention 
of  intruders  by  their  loud  cries  and  counterfeited2  lameness. 

Wm.  I  wish  I  had  known  that,  for  he  led  me  a  long 
chase,  often  over  shoes  in  water.  However,  it  was  the 
cause  of  my  falling  in  with  an  old  man  and  a  boy,  who 
were  cutting  and  piling  up  turf  for  fuel ;  and  I  had  a  good 
deal  of  talk  with  them  about  the  manner  of  preparing  the 
turf,  and  the  price  it  sells  at. 

I  then  took  my  course  up  to  the  windmill,  on  the  mount. 
I  climbed  up  the  steps  of  the  mill,  in  order  to  get  a  better 
view  of  the  country  around.  "What  an  extensive  prospect  1 
I  counted  fifteen  church-steeples ;  and  I  saw  several  gen- 
tlemen's houses  peeping  out  from  the  midst  of  green  woods 
and  plantations ;  and  I  could  trace  the  windings  of  the 
river  all  along  the  low  grounds,  till  it  was  lost  behind  a 
ridge  of  hills. 

From  the  hill  I  went  straight  down  to  the  meadows  below, 
and  walked  on  the  side  of  a  little  brook  till  it  entered  the 
river,  and  then  I  took  the  path  that  runs  along  the  bank. 
On  the  opposite  side  I  observed  several  little  birds  running 
along  the  shore,  and  making  a  piping  noise.  They  were 
brown  and  white,  and  about  as  big  as  a  snipe. 

Tu.  I  suppose  they  were  sand-pipers, — one  of  the  numer. 
ous  family  of  birds  that  get  their  living  by  wading  among 
the  shallows,  and  picking  up  worms  and  insects. 

Wm.  There  were  a  great  many  swallows,  too,  sporting 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  that  entertained  me  with  their 
motions.  Sometimes  they  dashed  into  the  stream ;  some- 
times they  pursued  one  another  so  quickly  that  the  eye 

1  Ar'ti  fice,  a  skillful  contrivance ;  3  Coun'  ter  feit  ed,  imitated  or 
a  kick.  pnt  on  an  appearance  of 


EYES,    OR    NO    EYES.  241 

could  scarcely  follow  them.  In  one  place,  where  a  high, 
steep  sand-bank  rose  directly  above  the  river,  I  observed 
many  of  them  go  in  and  out  of  holes  with  which  the  bank 
was  bored  full. 

Tu.  Those  were  sand-martins,  the  smallest  of  our  four 
species  of  swallows.  They  are  of  a  mouse-color  above,  and 
white  beneath.  They  make  their  nests  and  bring  up  their 
young  in  these  holes,  which  run  a  great  depth,  and  by  their 
situation  are  secure  from  all  plunderers. 

IX. 

109.     EYES,    OR    NO    EYES. 

PART   SECOND. 

WILLIAM.  A  little  further,  I  saw  a  man  in  a  boat, 
who  was  catching  eels  in  an  odd  way.  He  had  a 
long  pole,  with  broad  iron  prongs  at  the  end,  just  like  Nep- 
tune's 1  trident,  only  there  were  five  instead  of  three.  This 
he  pushed  straight  down  among  the  mud  in  the  deepest  part 
of  the  river,  and  fetched  up  eels  sticking  between  the  prongs. 

Tutor.  I  have  seen  this  method.  It  is  called  spearing 
of  eels. 

Wm.  While  I  was  looking  at  him,  a  heron  came  flying 
over  my  head  with  his  large  flagging  wings.  He  alighted 
at  the  next  turn  of  the  river,  and  I  crept  softly  behind  the 
bank  to  watch  his  motions.  He  had  waded  into  the  water 
as  far  as  his  long  legs  would  carry  him,  and  was  standing 
with  his  neck  drawn  in,  looking  intently  on  the  stream. 
Presently  he  dashed  his  long  bill  as  quick  as  lightning  into 
the  water,  and  drew  out  a  fish,  which  he  swallowed.  I  saw 
him  catch  another  in  the  same  manner.  He  then  took 
alarm  at  some  noise  I  made,  and  flew  away  slowly  to  a 
wood  at  some  distance,  where  he  settled. 

Tu,  Probably  his  nest  was  there  ;  for  herons  build  upon 
the  loftiest  trees  they  can  find,  and  sometimes  in  society 

1  Nep'  tune,  the  chief  of  the  fie-  ocean.  He  is  represented  with  a 
titions  gods  of  the  ancients,  who  trident,  or  kind  of  scepter  or  spear 
were  supposed  to  preside  over  the    with  three  prongs. 

11 


242  NATIONAL    THIRD    HEADER. 

together,  like  rooks.  Formerly,  when  these  birds  were 
valued  for  the  amusement  of  hawking,1  many  gentlemen 
had  their  heronries ;  and  a  few  are  still  remaining. 

Wm.  I  then  turned  homeward  across  the  meadows,  where 
I  stopped  a  while  to  look  at  a  large  flock  of  starlings,  which 
kept  flying  about  at  no  great  distance.  I  could  not  tell  at 
first  what  to  make  of  them ;  for  they  rose  all  together  from 
the  ground  as  thick  as  a  swarm  of  bees,  and  formed  them- 
selves into  a  kind  of  black  cloud,  hovering  over  the  field 
after  taking  a  short  round,  they  settled  again,  and  presently 
rose  again  in  the  same  manner.  I  dare  say  there  were 
hundreds  of  them. 

Tu.  Perhaps  so ;  for,  in  the  fenny2  countries,  their  flocks 
are  so  numerous  as  to  break  down  whole  acres  of  reeds,  by 
settling  on  them.  This  disposition  of  starlings  to  fly  in 
close  swarms  was  remarked  even  by  Homer,3  who  compares 
the  foe  flying  from  one  of  his  heroes  to  a  cloud  of  star- 
lings retiring  dismayed  at  the  approach  of  the  hawk. 

Wm.  After  I  had  left  the  meadows,  I  crossed  the  corn- 
fields in  the  way  to  our  house,  and  passed  close  'by  a  deep 
marl-pit.4  Looking  into  it,  I  saw  in  one  of  the  sides  a 
cluster  of  what  I  took  to  be  shells ;  and  upon  going  down, 
I  picked  up  a  clod  of  marl,  which  was  quite  full  of  them ; 
but  how  sea-shells  could  get  there,  I  can  not  imagine. 

Tu.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  surprise,  since  many  philo- 
sophers have  been  much  perplexed  to  account  for  the  same 
appearance.  It  is  not  uncommon  to  find  great  quantities 
of  shells  and  relics 5  of  marine 6  animals  even  in  the  bowels 
of  high  mountains  very  remote  from  the  sea. 

1  Hawk'  ing,  the  taking  of  wild  4  Marl'  pit,  a  pit  where  marl,  a 

fowl  by  means  of  hawks.          -  kind  of  earth  used  to  enrich  land, 

' a  Pen'  ny,  marshy ;  boggy  ;  grow-  is  dug. 

ing  in  fens.  6  Relics,  (rel'  iks),  things  that  re- 

8  Homer,  the  most  distinguished  main,  or  are  left  after  the  decay  01 

of  poets,  entitled  "  The  Father  of  loss  of  a  part 

Song."    He  is  supposed  to  have  been  6  Marine,  (ma  ren'),  pertaining  01 

an  Asiatic  Greek,  though  his  birth-  relating  to  the  sea ;   having  to  do 

place,  and  the  period  in  which  he  with  the  ocean.    Marine  animals  are 

lived,  are  unknown.  those  that  live  in  the  sea. 


EYES,    OR    NO    EYES  2413 

Wm.  I  got;  to  the  high  field  next  to  our  house  just  as  the 
sun  was  setting,  and  I  stood  looking  at  it  till  it  was  quite 
lost.  What  a  glorious  sight !  The  clouds  were  tinged  wifb 
purple,  and  crimson,  and  yellow,  of  all  shades  and  hues, 
and  the  clear  sky  varied  from  blue  to  a  fine  green  at  the 
horl'zon.1  But  how  large  the  sun  appears  just  as  it  sets  I 
I  think  it  seems  twice  as  big  as  when  it  is  overhead. 

Tu.  It  does  so ;  and  you  may  probably  have  observed 
the  same  apparent 2  enlargement  of  the  moon  at  its  rising. 

Wm.  I  have ;  but  pray  what  is  the  reason  of  this  ? 

Tu.  It  is  an  optical3  deception,  depending  upon  princi- 
ples which  I  can  not  well  explain  to  you  till  you  know  more 
of  that  branch  of  science.  But  what  a  number  of  new 
ideas  this  afternoon's  walk  has  afforded  you !  I  do  not  won- 
der that  you  found  it  amusing ;  it  has  been  very  instructing, 
too.     Did  you  see  nothing  of  all  these  sights,  Bobert  ? 

Hob.  I  saw  some  of  them,  but  I  did  not  take  particular 
notice  of  them. 

Tu.  Why  not? 

Bob.  I  do  not  know.  I  did  not  care  about  them ;  and  I 
made  the  best  of  my  way  home. 

Tu.  That  would  have  been  right  if  you  had  been  sent  on 
a  message  ;  but  as  you  only  walked  for  amusement,  it  would 
have  been  wiser  to  have  sought  out  as  many  sources  of  it 
as  possible.  But  so  it  is, — one  man  walks  through  the 
world  wifh  his  eyes  open,  and  another  with  them  shut ;  and 
upon  this  difference  depends  all  the  superiority  of  knowl- 
edge the  one  acquires  above  the  other. 

I  have  known  a  sailor  who  had  been  in  all  the  quarters 
of  the  world,  and  could  tell  you  nothing  but  the  signs  of 
the  tippling-houses  he  frequented  in  different  ports,  and 
the  price  and  quality  of  the  liquor.  On  the  other  hand,  a 
Franklin  could  not  cross  the  English  Channel  without 
making  some  observations  useful  to  mankind. 

i  Ho  ri'  zon,  the  line  that  bounds  able  to  the  eye ;  that  may  be  seen ; 

the  sight  where  the  earth  and  sky  seeming, 

appear  to  meet.  8  Op  tic  al,  relating  to  viskm  01 

»  Apparent,  (ap  par'  ent),  perceiv-  sight,  or  to  the  eye. 


244  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Wiiile  many  a  vacant,  thoughtless  youth,  is  whirled 
throughout  Europe,  without  gaining  a  single  idea  worth 
crossing  a  street  for,  the  observing  eye  and  inquiring  mind 
find  matter  for  improvement  and  delight  in  every  ramble 
in  town  or  country.  Do  you,  then,  William,  continue  to 
make  use  of  your  eyes,  and  you,  Robert,  learn  that  eyes 
were  given  you  to  use.  Dr.  Aiken. 


SECTION    XXII. 
i. 

110.     THE    MOUNTAIN    BOY. 

THE  shepherd  of  the  Alps  am  I, 
The  castles  far  beneath  me  lie ; 
Here  first  the  ruddy1  sunlight  gleams, 
Here  linger  last  the  parting  beams. 

The  mountain  boy  am  I ! 
Here  is  the  river's  fountain-head, 
I  drink  it  from  its  stony  bed ; 
As  forth  it  leaps  with  joyous  shout, 
I  seize  it,  ere  it  gushes  out. 

The  mountain  boy  am  I ! 
The  mountain  is  my  own  domain  ; 2 
It  calls  its  storms  from  sea  and  plain ; 
From  north  to  south  they  howl  afar : 
My  voice  is  heard  amid  their  war. 

The  mountain  boy  am  I ! 
And  when  the  tocsin3  sounds  alarms, 
And  mountain  bale-fires4  call  to  arms, 
Then  I  descend,  I  join  my  king, 
My  sword  I  wave,  my  lay  I  sing. 

The  mountain  boy  am  I ! 


1  RucT  dy,  of  a  red  color  ;  red.  3  Tocsin,  (tok'  sin),  an  alarm-bell 

4  Do  main',  country  over  which  or  the  ringing  of  a  bell  for  the  pur 

one  has  the  government  or  author-  pose  of  alarm. 

ity  \  estate  or  home.  4  Bale'-fires.  alarm-fires. 


EXCELSIOR 


245 


The  lightnings  far  beneath  me  lie ; 
High  stand  I  here  in  clear  blue  sky ; 
I  know  them,  and  to  them  I  call ; 
In  quiet  leave  my  father's  hall. 
The  mountain  boy  am  I ! 


Uhland. 


Ill 


n. 

EXCELSIOR, 


THE  shades  of  night  were  falling  fast, 
As  through  an  Al'pine  village  passed 
A  youth,  who  bore,  mid  snow  and  ice, 
A  banner  with  the  strange  device, 
Excelsior  1 


246  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

V 

2.  His  brow  was  sad ;  his  eye  beneafh 
Flashed  like  a  falchion1  from  its  sheath; 
And  like  a  silver  clarion 2  rung 

The  accents  of  that  unknown  tongue. 
Excelsior  ! 3 

3.  In  happy  homes  he  saw  the  light 

Of  household  fires  gleam  warm  and  bright: 
Above,  the  spectral4  glaciers5  shone; 
And  from  his  lips  escaped  a  groan, 
Excelsior  ! 

4.  "  Try  not  the  Pass !"  the  old  man  said ; 
"  Dark  lowers  the  tempest  overhead ; 
The  roaring  torrent  is  deep  and  wide !" 
And  loud  that  clarion  voice  replied, 

Excelsior  ! 

5.  "  Oh,  stay,"  the  maiden  said,  "  and  rest 
Thy  weary  head  upon  this  breast I" 

A  tear  stood  in  his  bright  blue  eye  ; 
But  still  he  answered,  with  a  sigh, 
Excelsior  ! 

6.  "  Beware  the  pine-tree's  withered  branch ! 
Beware  the  awful  avalanche !"  6 

This  was  the  peasant's  last  Good-night ! 
A  voice  replied,  far  up  the  height 
Excelsior  ! 

7.  At  break  of  day.  as  heavenward 

The  pious  monks  of  St.  Bernard7 

> 

1  Falchion,    (faT  chun),  a   short,  e  Avalanche,    ( avx  a  lansh' )..  a 

crooked  Bword.  snow-slip  ;  a  vast  body  of  ice,  snow 

*  Clar'  i  on,   a  wind   instrument  or  earth,  sliding  down  a  mountain, 
suited  to  war.  '  Saint  Bernard,  (sent  her  nard* 

8  Ex  eel'  si  or,    more    elevated  ;  a  remarkable  mountain  pass  in  the 

aiming  higher;   the  motto  of  the  chain  of  the  Alps,  between  Piedmont 

State  of  New  York.  and  the  Valaise.     A  strong   stone 

*  Spec'  tral,  relating  to  an  appa-  building  is  situated  on  the  summit 
rition,  or  the  appearance  of  a  spirit ;  of  this  pass.  It  is  occupied  during 
ghostly.  the  whole  year  by  pious  monks,  who. 

*  Glac'  i  er,  a  moving  field  of  ice  with  their  valuable  dogs,  hold  them 
and  snow,  formed  in  the  valleys  and  selves  in  readiness  to  aid  trarclers 
slopes  of  lofty  mountains  arrested  by  the  snow  and  cold 


THE    COLOR-SERGEANT.  247 

Uttered  the  oft-repeated  prayer, 
A  voice  cried,  through  the  startled  air, 
Excelsior  ! 

A  traveler,  by  the  faithful  hound, 
Half-buried  in  the  snow  was  found, 
Still  grasping,  in  his  hand  of  ice, 
That  banner  wifh  the  strange  device,1 
Excelsior  ! 

There,  in  the  twilight  cold  and  gray, 
Lifeless,  but  beautiful  he  lay ; 
And  from  the  sky,  serene 2  and  far, 
A  voice  fell  like  a  falling  star, 
Excelsior  ! 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 

m. 

112.     THE    COLOR-SERGEANT. 

YOU  say  that  in  every  battle 
No  soldier  was  braver  than  he, 
As,  aloft  in  the  roar  and  the  rattle, 
He  carried  the  flag  of  the  Free  : 
I  knew,  ah !  I  knew  he'd  ne'er  falter, 
I  could  trust  him,  the  dutiful  boy : 
My  Eobert  was  willful, — but  Walter, 
Dear  Walter,  was  ever  a  joy. 

And  if  he  was  true  to  his  mother, 

Do  you  think  he  his  trust  would  betray, 
And  give  up  his  place  to  another, 

Or  turn  from  the  danger  away  ? 
He  knew  while  afar  he  was  straying, 

He  felt  in  the  thick  of  the  fight, 
That  at  home  his  poor  mother  was  praying 

For  him  and  the  cause  of  the  Right ! 


1  De  vice',  a  figure,  mark,  word,        9  Se  rene',   clear  and  calm  ; 
or  motto.  disturbed  ;  bright. 


un- 


248  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

3.  Tell  me,  comrade,  who  saw  him  dying, 

What  he  said,  what  he  did,  if  you  can ; 
On  the  field  in  his  agony  lying, 

Did  he  suffer  and  die  like  a  man  ? 
Do  you  think  he  once  wished  he  had  never 

Borne  arms  for  the  Eight  and  the  True? 
Nay,  he  shouted  "  Our  country  forever  /" 

When  he  died,  he  was  praying  for  you  ! 

4.  O,  my  darling !  my  youngest  and  fairest, 

Whom  I  gathered  so  close  to  my  breast ; 
I  call  thee  my  dearest  and  rarest, 

And  thou  wert  my  purest  and  best ! 
I  tell  you,  O  friend !  as  a  mother, 

Whose  full  heart  is  breaking  to-day, 
The  infinite l  Father — none  other — 

Can  know  what  He's  taken  away. 

5.  I  thank  you  once  more  for  your  kindness, 

For  this  lock  of  his  bright  auburn 2  hair ; — 
Perhaps  'tis  the  one  I  in  blindness 

Last  touched,  as  we  parted  just  there ! 
When  he  asked,  through  his  tears,  should  he  linger 

From  duty,  I  answered  him,  Nay ;    - 
And  he  smiled,  as  he  placed  on  my  finger 

The  ring  I  am  wearing  to-day. 

6.  I  watched  him  leap  into  that  meadow ; 

There,  a  child,  he  with  others  had  played ; 
I  saw  him  pass  slowly  the  shadow 

Of  the  trees  where  his  father  was  laid ; 
And  there,  where  the  road  meets  two  others, 

Without  turning  he  went  on  his  way : 
Once  his  face  toward  the  foe — not  his  mother's 

Should  unman  him,  or  cause  him  delay. 

7    It  may  be  that  some  day  your  duty 
Will  carry  you  that  way  again  ;3 

1  In'  fi  nite,  without  limit  in  pow         2  Auburn,  (a'  be'rn),  reddish  brown 
it,  wisdom,  and  goodness ;  perfect.  •  Again,  (a  g§n'). 


THE    BOY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  249 

When  the  field  shall  be  riper  in  beauty, 
Enriched  by  the  blood  of  the  slain ; 

Would  you  see  if  the  grasses  are  growing 
On  the  grave  of  my  boy  ?     Will  you  see 

If  a  flower,  e'en  the  smallest,  is  blowing, 
And  pluck  it,  and  send  it  to  me  ? 

8.  Don't  think,  in  my  grief,  I'm  complaining : 

I  gave  him,  God  took  him,  'tis  right ; 
And  the  cry  of  his  mother  remaining 

Shall  strengthen  his  comrades  in  fight. 
Not  for  vengeance,  to-day,  in  my  weeping, 

Goes  my  prayer  to  the  Infinite  Throne. 
God  pity  the  foe  when  he's  reaping 

The  harvest  of  what  he  has  sown ! 

9.  Tell  his  comrades  these  words  of  his  mother : 

All  over  the  wide  land  to-day, 
The  Kachels,'  who  weep  with  each  other, 

Together  in  agony  pray. 
They  know,  in  their  great  tribulation, 

By  the  blood  of  their  children  outpoured, 
We  shall  smite  down  the  foes  of  the  Nation, 

In  the  terrible  day  of  the  Lord. 

A.  D.  F.  Randolph. 

IV. 

113.     THE    BOY    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.3 

MANGLED,3  uncared  for,  suffering  through  the  night 
Wifli  heavenly  patience  the  poor  boy  had  lain ; 
Under  the  dreary  shadows,  left  and  right, 
Groaned  on  the  wounded,  stiffened  out  the  slain. 
What  faith  sustained  his  lone, 
Brave  heart  to  make  no  moan, 

1  Ra'  chels,  see  Bible,  Matt.  chap,  the  battle-field,  dated,  "Wilderness, 
ii.,  16th  to  18th  verses  inclusive.  May  7,  1864." 

2  The  incident  contained  in  this  9  Mangled,  (mang'  gld),  cut  or 
poem  is  narrated  by  a  writer  for  the  bruised  with  repeated  blows  oi 
New  York  Tribune,  in  a  letter  from  strokes  :  covered  with  wounds. 


250  NATIONAL    TH1KD    HEADER. 

To  send  no  cry  from  that  blood-sprinkled  sod, 
Is  a  close  mystery l  with  him  and  God, 

2.  But  when  the  light  came,  and  the  morning  dew 

Glittered  around  him,  like  a  golden  lake, 
And  every  dripping  flower  with  deepened  hue 
Looked  through  its  tears  for  very  pity's  sake, 
He  moved  his  aching  head 
Upon  his  rugged  bed, 
And  smiled  as  a  blue  violet,  virgin-meek, 
Laid  her  pure  kiss  upon  his  withered  cheek. 

3.  At  once  there  circled  in  his  waking  heart 

A  thousand  memories  of  distant  home ; 
Of  how  those  same  blue  violets  would  start 
Along  his  native  fields,  and  some  would  roam 
Down  his  dear  humming  brooks, 
To  hide  in  secret  nooks, 
And,  shyly  met,  in  nodding  circles  swing, 
Like  gossips  murmuring  at  belated 2  Spring. 

1.   And  then  he  thought  of  the  beloved  hands 

That  with  his  own  had  plucked  the  modest  flower, 
The  blue-eyed  maiden,  crowned  with  golden  bands, 
Who  ruled  as  sovereign  of  that  sunny  hour : 
She  at  whose  soft  command 
He  joined  the  mustering  band, 
She  for  whose  sake  he  lay  so  firm  and  still, 
Despite 3  his  pangs,  nor  questioned  then  her  will 

5.   So,  lost  in  thought,  scarce  conscious  of  the  deed, 
Culling  the  violets,  here  and  there  he  crept 
Slowly, — ah !  slowly, — for  his  wound  would  bleed ; 
And  the  sweet  flowers  themselves  half  smiled,  ha'f 
wept, 
To  be  thus  gathered  in 
By  hands  so  pale  and  thin, 
By  fingers  trembling  as  they  neatly  laid 
Stem  upon  stem,  and  bound  them  in  a  braid 

1  Mys'  ter  y,  a  profound  or  deep        *  Be  lat'ed,  delayed;  made  too  late 
secret :  Bomething  wholly  unknown.        •  De  spite',  in  spite  ot 


SONG    OF    MARION'S    MEN.  251 

&    The  strangest  posy  ever  fashioned  yet 

Was  clasped  against  the  bosom  of  the  lad, 
As  we,  the  seekers  for  the  wounded,  set 
His  form  upon  our  shoulders  bowed  and  sad ; 
Though  he  but  seemed  to  think 
How  violets  nod  and  wink ; 
And  as  we  cheered  him,  for  the  path  was  wild, 
He  only  looked  upon  his  flowers  and  smiled. 

George  H.  Boker, 

V. 

114.     SONG    OF    MARION'S    MEN. 

1. 

OUE  band  is  few,  but  true  and  tried,  our  leader  frank  and 
bold; 
Ihe  British  soldier  trembles  when  Marion's  *  name  is  told  ; 
Our  fortress  is  the  good  green  wood,  our  tent  the  cypress-tree ; 
We  know  the  forest  round  us,  as  seamen  know  the  sea. 
We  know  its  walls  of  thorny  vines,  its  glades  of  reedy  grass, 
Its  safe  and  silent  islands  within  the  dark  morass.8 

2. 
Woe  to  the  English  soldiery  that  little  dread  us  near ! 
On  them  shall  light  at  midnight  a  strange  and  sudden  fear  : 
When,  waking  to  their  tents  on  fire,  they  grasp  their  arms  in  vain, 
And  they  who  stand  to  face  us  are  beat  to  earth  again  ; 
And  they  who  fly  in  terror  deem  a  mighty  host  behind, 
And  hear  the  tramp  of  thousands  upon  the  hollow  wind. 

3. 
Then  sweet  the  hour  that  brings  release  from  danger  and  from 

toil! 
We  talk  the  battle  over,  and  share  the  battle's  spoil. 
The  woodland  rings  with  laugh  and  shout,  as  if  a  hunt  were  up, 
And  woodland  flowers  ars  gathered  to  crown  the  soldier's  cup. 
With  merry  songs  we  mock  the  wind  that  in  the  pine-top  grieves, 
And  slumber  long  and  sweetly,  on  beds  of  oaken  leaves. 

1  Francis  Marion,  (mar  I  on),  a  South  Carolina,  the  scene  of  his  prin- 

distinguished  officer  of  the  American  cipal  exploits.     He  died  in  1795. 

revolution,  noted  for  his  sagacity,  his  'Morass',   a  tract  of  soft,  wet 

energy,  and  his  bravery,  was  born  in  ground  ;  a  marsh, 


252 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 


Well  knows  the  fair  and  friendly  moon  the  band  that  Marion 

leads — 
The  glitter  of  their  rifles,  the  scampering  of  their  steeds. 
Tis  life  to  guide  the  fiery  barb  *  across  the  moonlight  plain  ;   * 
Tis  life  to  feel  the  night-wind  that  lifts  his  tossing  mane. 
A  moment  in  the  British  camp — a  moment — and  away 
Back  to  the  pathless  forest,  before  the  peep  of  day. 

5. 
Grave  men  there  are  by  broad  Santee,1  grave  men  with  hoary  hairs, 
Their  hearts  are  all  with  Marion,  for  Marion  are  their  prayers. 


1  Barb,  a  horse  of  the  Barhary 
stock,  noted  for  great  speed 


2  San  tee',  a  river  in  South  Caro- 
lina about  150  miles  In  length. 


WINTER    AND    SPRING.  253 

And  lovely  ladies  greet  our  band  with  kindliest  welcoming, 
With  smiles  like  those  of  summer,  and  tears  like  those  of  spring 
For  them  we  wear  these  trusty  arms,  and  lay  them  down  no  more, 
Till  we  have  driven  the  Briton  forever  from  our  shore. 

William  Cullen  Bryant 


SECTION    XXIII. 
i. 

115.     WINTER    AND    SPRING. 

TTTINTEK.  When  I  blow  my  breath  about  me, 
V  V  WTien  I  breathe  upon  the  landscape, 

Motionless  are  all  the  rivers, 
Hard  as  stone  becomes  the  water ! 

Spring.  WTien  I  blow  my  breath  about  me, 
When  I  breathe  upon  the  landscape, 
Flowers  spring  up  o'er  all  the  meadows, 
Singing,  onward  rush  the  rivers. 

Winter.  When  I  shake  my  hoary  tresses, 
All  the  land  with  snow  is  covered ; 
All  the  leaves  from  all  the  branches 
Fall  and  fade  and  die  and  wither, 
For  I  breathe,  and  lo  !  they  are  not. 
From  the  waters  and  the  marshes 
Eise  the  wild  goose  and  the  heron, 
Fly  away  to  distant  regions, 
For  I  speak,  and  lo  !  they  are  not. 
And  where'er  my  footsteps  wander, 
All  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest 
Hide  themselves  in  holes  and  caverns, 
And  the  earth  becomes  as  flintstone ! 

Spring.  When  I  shake  my  flowing  ringlets, 

Showers  of  rain  fall  warm  and  welcome, 
Plants  lift  up  their  heads  rejoicing, 
Back  unto  their  lakes  and  marshes 


254  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

Come  the  wild  goose  and  the  heron, 
Homeward  shoots  the  arrowy  swallow, 
Sing  the  bine-bird  and  the  robin, 
And  where'er  my  footsteps  wander, 
All  the  meadows  wave  with  blossoms, 
All  the  woodlands  ring  with  mnsic, 
All  the  trees  are  dark  with  foliage. 

Henky  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 

n. 

116.     THE    SNOW-SHOWER. 

STAND  here  by  my  side  and  tnrn,  I  pray, 
On  the  lake  below  thy  gentle  eyes ; 
The  clonds  hang  over  it,  heavy  and  gray, 

And  dark  and  silent  the  water  lies ; 
And  ont  of  that  frozen  mist  the  snow, 
In  waving  flakes,  begins  to  flow ; 

Flake  after  flake 
They  sink  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake, 

2.  See  how  in  a  living  swarm  they  come 

From  the  chambers  beyond  that  misty  veil; 
Some  hover  awhile  in  air,  and  some 

Rush  prone 2  from  the  sky  like  summer  haiL 
All,  dropping  swiftly  or  settling  slow, 
Meet,  and  are  still  in  the  depth  below ; 

Flake  after  flake, 
Dissolved  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake. 

3.  Here  delicate  snow-stars,  ont  of  the  cloud, 

Come  floating  downward  in  airy  play, 
Like  spangles  dropped  from  the  ghstening  crowd 

That  whiten  by  night  the  milky  way ; 
There  broader  and  burlier 3  masses  fall : 
The  sullen  water  buries  them  all — 

Flake  after  flake — 
All  drowned  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake. 

1  Veil,  (val),  something  to  shut        a  Prone,  headlong, 
out  the  view ;  a  thin  screen,  or  cover,         a  Burlier,  (beV  li  er),  greater    in 
used  to  hide  or  protect  the  face.  bulk  or  size  ;  coarser  and  rougher. 


THE    SKOW-SHOWEH.  256 

1  And  some,  as  on  tender  wings  they  glide 

From  their  chilly  birth-cloud,  dim  and  gray, 
Are  joined  in  their  fall,  and,  side  by  side, 

Gome  clinging  along  their  unsteady  way ; 
As  friend  with  friend,  or  husband  and  wife 
Makes  hand  in  hand  the  passage  of  life  ; 

Each  mated  flake 
Soon  sinks  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake. 

5.  Lo !  while  we  are  gazing,  in  swifter  haste 

Stream  down  the  snows,  till  the  air  is  white, 
As,  myriads !  by  myriads  madly  chased, 

They  fling  themselves  from  their  shadowy  height, 
The  fair,  frail  creatures  of  middle  sky, 
What  speed  they  make,  with  their  grave  so  nigh  ; 

Flake  after  flake, 
To  lie  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake ! 

6.  I  see  in  thy  gentle  eyes  a  tear : 

They  turn  to  me  in  sorrowful  thought : 
Thou  thinkest  of  friends,  the  good  and  dear, 

Who  were  for  a  time,  and  now  are  not ; 
Like  these  fair  children  of  cloud  and  frost, 
That  glisten  a  moment,  and  then  are  lost, 

Flake  after  flake — 
All  lost  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake. 

7.  Yet  look  again,  for  the  clouds  divide ; 

A  gleam  of  blue  on  the  water  lies ; 
And  far  away  on  the  mountain  side, 

A  sunbeam  falls  from  the  opening  skies. 
But  the  hurrying  host 2  that  flew  between 
The  cloud  and  the  water,  no  more  is  seen ; 

Flake  after  flake, 
At  rest  in  the  dark  and  silent  lake. 

William  Cullen  Bryant. 

1Myr'iads,  a  myriad  is  the  a  Host,  (h6st),  an  array ;  a  n  urn- 
number  of  ten  thousand,  bnt  is  ber  of  men  formed  into  a  body  foi 
sometimes  used  for  any  very  large  war ;  a  multitude  or  throng :  any 
number  ;  a  very  great  many.  great  number 


256  NATIONAL  THIRD  READER. 

m. 

117.     THE    SNOW-STORM. 
PART  FIRST. 

I  HAVE  a  short  and  simple  story  to  tell  of  the  winter* 
life  of  the  moorland !  cottager — a  story  but  of  one  even* 
ing,  with  few  events,  and  no  signal  catastrophe,2  but  which 
may  haply  please  those  hearts  whose  delight  it  is  to  think 
on  the  humble  under-plots 3  ,that  are  carrying  on  in  the 
great  drama4  of  life. 

2.  Two  cottagers,  husband  and  wife,  were  sitting  by 
their  cheerful  peat5  fire  one  winter  evening,  in  a  small, 
lonely  hut,  on  the  edge  of  a  wide  Scottish  moor,  at  some 
miles'  distance  from  any  other  habitation.  Its  little  end 
window,  now  lighted  up,  was  the  only  ground-star  that 
shone  toward  the  belated  traveler,  if  any  such  ventured  to 
cross,  on  a  winter  night,  a  scene  so  dreary  and  desolate.6 

3.  The  affairs  of  the  small  household  were  all  arranged 
for  the  night.  The  little  rough  pony  that  had  drawn  in  a 
sledge,  from  the  heart  of  the  Black-moss,  the  fuel  by  whose 
blaze  the  cotters  were  now  sitting  cheerily,  and  the  littje 
Highland  cow,  whose  milk  enabled  them  to  live,  were 
standing  amicably  together,  under  cover  of  a  rude  shed, 
of  which  one  side  was  formed  by  the  peat-stack,  and  which 
was  at  once  cow-house,  stable,  and  hen-roost. 

4.  Within,  the  clock  ticked  cheerfully  as  the  fire-light 
reached  its  old  oak-wood  case  across  the  yellow-sanded 
floor ;  and  a  small  round  table  stood  between,  covered  with 
a  snow-white  cloth,  on  which  were  milk  and  oat-cakes,  the 
morning,  mid-day,  and  evening  meal  of  these  frugal  and 

1  Moor'  land,  a  marsh,  or  tract  of  4  Drama,  (dra'  ma),  a  story  which 

low,  watery  ground.  is  acted,  not  related  ;  a  number  cf 

*  Ca  tas'  tro  phe,   a  final   event,  connected  events  ending  in  some  in- 

usually  of  a  disastrous  nature  ;  an  teresting  or  striking  result, 

accident.  5  Peat,  turf ,  the  roots  of  vegeta- 

s  Un'  der-plots,      little      things  bles  dried  for  burning, 

which  happen   while  great  events  8  Des'  o  late,  destitute  or  deprived 

are  taking  place.  of  inhabitance  ;  deserted 


THE    SNOWSTORM  257 

contented  cotters.  The  spades  and  the  mattocks1  of  the 
laborer  were  collected  in  one  corner,  and  showed  that  the 
succeeding  day  was  the  blessed  Sabbath ;  while  on  the 
wooden  chimney-piece  was  seen  lying  an  open  Bible  ready 
for  family  worship. 

5.  The  father  and  the  mother  were  sitting  together,  with* 
out  opening  their  lips,  but  with  their  hearts  overflowing 
with  happiness ;  for  on  this  Saturday  night  they  were,  every 
minute,  expecting  to  hear  at  the  latch  the  hand  of  their 
only  daughter,  a  maiden  of  about  fifteen  years,  who  was  at 
service  with  a  farmer  over  the  hills. 

6.  Forty  shillings  a  year  were  all  the  wages  of  sweet 
Hannah  Lee  ;  but  though  she  wore  at  her  labor  a  tortoise- 
shell  comb  in  her  auburn2  hair,  and  though  in  the  church 
none  were  more  becomingly  arrayed  than  she,  oue-half,  at 
least,  of  all  her  earnings  were  to  be  reserved  for  the  holiest 
of  all  purposes ;  and  her  kind,  innocent  heart  was  glad- 
dened when  she  looked  on  the  little  purse  that  was,  on  the 
long-expected  Saturday  night,  to  be  taken  from  her  bosom, 
and  put,  with  a  blessing,  into  the  hand  of  her  father,  now 
growing  old  at  his  daily  toils. 

7.  Of  such  a  child  the  happy  cotters  were  thinking  in 
their  silence.  And  well,  indeed,  might  they  be  called 
happy.  It  is  at  that  sweet  season  that  filial3  piety  is  most 
beautiful.  Their  own  Hannah  had  just  outgrown  the  mere 
unthinking  gladness  of  childhood,  but  had  not  yet  reached 
that  time  when  inevitable 4  selfishness  mixes  with  the  pure 
current  of  love. 

8.  She  had  begun  to  think  on  what  her  affectionate  heart 
had  left  so  long ;  and  when  she  looked  on  the  pale  face  and 
bending  frame  of  her  mother,  on  the  deepening  wrinkles 
and  whitening  hairs  of  her  father,  often  would  she  he  weep- 
ing, for  their  sakes,  on  her  midnight  bed,  and  wish  that  she 

1  Mat'  took,  a  kind  of  pick-ax,  or  daughter  ;  filial  piety  is  tlie  love 

having  the  iron  ends  broad,  instead  of  a  son  or  daughter  to  father  or 

of  pointed.  mother. 

*  Auburn,  (a'bSrn).  reddish  brown.        *  In  e v' i  ta  ble.  that  which  can 

•  Filial,  (flT  yal),  relating  to  a  son  not  be  avoided. 


.   258  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER 

were  beside  them  as  they  slept,  that  she  might  kneel  down 
and  kiss  them,  and  mention  their  names  over  and  over 
again  in  her  prayer. 

9.  She  had  discerned  the  relation  in  which  she,  an  only 
child,  stood  to  her  poor  par'ents,  now  that  they  were  get* 
ting  old :  and  there  was  not  a  passage  in  Scripture  that 
spake  of  parents  or  of  children,  from  Joseph  sold  into 
slavery,  to  Mary  weeping  below  the  cross,  that  was  not 
Written,  never  to  be  obliterated,1  on  her  uncorrupted  heart. 

10.  The  father  rose  from  his  seat,  and  went  to  the  door, 
to  look  out  into  the  night.  The  stars  were  in  thousands, 
and  the  full  moon  was  risen.  It  was  almost  light  as  day ; 
and  the  snow,  that  seemed  incrusted  with  diamonds,  was 
so  hardened  by  the  frost,  that  his  daughter's  homeward 
feet  would  leave  no  mark  on  its  surface. 

11.  He  had  been  toiling  all  day  among  the  distant  Cas- 
tle-woods, and,  stiff  and  wearied  as  he  now  was,  he  was 
almost  tempted  to  go  to  meet  his  child ;  but  his  wife's  kind 
voice  dissuaded2  him,  and,  returning  to  the  fireside,  they 
began  to  talk  of  her  whose  image  had  been  so  long  passing 
before  them  in  their  silence. 

IV. 

118.     THE    SNOW-STORM. 

PART  SECOND. 

LITTLE  Hannah  Lee  had  left  her  master's  house  soon 
as  the  rim  of  the  great  moon  wTas  seen  by  her  eyes, 
that  had  been  long  anxiously  watching  it  from  the  window, 
rising,  like  a  joyful  dream,  over  the  gloomy  mountain-tops ; 
and  all  by  herself  she  tripped  aloug  beneath  the  beauty  of 
the  silent  heaven. 

2.  Still,  as  she  kept  ascending  and  descending  the  knolls 
that  lay  in  the  bosom  of  the  glen,  she  sung  to  herself  a 
song,  a  hymn,  or  a  psalm,  without  the  accompaniment  of 

1  Ob  lit'  er  a  ted,  erased,  or  blot-  »  Dis  suad  ed,  exhorted  or  ad- 
ted  out ;  destroyed  by  time  or  other  vised  against ;  caused  to  give  up  ; 
means  persuaded  not  to  do 


THE    SNOW-STORM  259 

the  streams,  now  all  silent  in  the  frost ;  and  ever  and  anon 
she  stopped  to  try  to  count  the  stars  that  lay  in  some  more 
beautiful  part  of  the  sky,  or  gazed  on  the  constellations1 
that  she  knew,  and  called  them,  in  her  joy,  by  the  names 
they  bore  among  the  shepherds.  There  were  none  to  hear 
her  voice,  or  see  hei  smiles,  but  the  ear  and  eye  of  Provi- 
dence. 

3.  As  on  she  glided,  and  took  her  looks  from  heaven,  she 
saw  her  own  little  fireside — her  par'ents  waiting  for  her 
arrival — the  Bible  opened  for  worship — her  own  little  room, 
kept  so  neatly  for  her,  with  its  mirror  hanging  by  the  win- 
dow, in  which  to  braid  her  hair  by  the  morning  light — her 
bed,  prepared  for  her  by  her  mother's  hand — the  primroses 
in  the  garden,  peeping  through  the  snow — old  Tray,  who 
ever  welcomed  her  home  with  his  dim  white  eyes — the 
pony  and  the  cow — friends  all,  and  inmates  of  that  happy 
household. 

4.  So  stepped  she  along,  while  the  snow-diamonds  glit- 
tered around  her  feet,  and  the  frost  wove  a  wreath  of  lucid2 
pearls  round  her  forehead.  She  had  now  reached  the  edge 
of  the  Black-moss,  which  lay  half  way  between  her  master's 
and  her  father's  dwelling,  when  she  heard  a  loud  noise 
coming  down  Glen  Scrae,  and  in  a  few  seconds  she  felt  on 
her  face  some  flakes  of  snow. 

5.  She  looked  up  the  glen,  and  saw  the  snow-storm  com- 
ing down,  fast  as  a  flood.  She  felt  no  fears ;  but  she  ceased 
her  song,  and  had  there  been  a  human  eye  to  look  upon 
her  there,  it  might  have  seen  a  shadow  on  her  face.  She 
continued  her  course,  and  felt  bolder  and  bolder,  every  step 
that  brought  her  nearer  to  her  par'ents'  house. 

6.  But  the  snow-storm  had  now  reached  the  Black-moss, 
and  the  broad  line  of  light  that  had  lain  in  the  direction  of 
her  home  was  soon  swallowed  up,  and  the  child  was  in 
utter  darkness.     She  saw  nothing  but  the  flakes  of  snow, 

1  Conv  stel  la'  tion,    an    asscm-  an   animal,   or    some    other  object 

blage,  cluster,  or  group  of  fixed  stars,  which  it  is  imagined  to  resemble, 

situated   near    each    other    in    the  ■  Lu'  cid,  clear ;  bright ;  shining ; 

heavens,  and  bearing  the  name  of  giving  light. 


260  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

inter'minably l  intermingled,  and  furiously  wafted 2  in  the  air, 
close  to  her  head ;  she  heard  nothing  but  one  wild,  fierce, 
fitful  howl.  The  cold  became  intense,  and  her  little  feet 
and  hands  were  fast  being  benumbed  into  insensibility.3 

7.  "  It  is  a  fearful  change,"  muttered  the  child  to  herself ; 
but  still  she  did  not  fear,  for  she  had  been  born  in  a  moor- 
land cottage,  and  lived  all  her  days  among  the  hardships 
of  the  hills.  "What  will  become  of  the  poor  sheep?" 
thought  she ;  but  still  she  scarcely  thought  of  her  own 
danger,  for  innocence,  and  youth,  and  joy  are  slow  to  think 
of  aught  evil  befalling  themselves ;  and  thinking  kindly  of 
all  living  things,  forget  their  own  fear  in  their  pity  for 
others'  sorrow. 

8.  At  last  she  could  no  longer  discern  a  single  mark  on 
the  snow,  either  of  human  steps,  or  of  sheep-track,  or  the 
foot-print  of  a  wild-fowl.  Suddenly,  too,  she  felt  out  of 
breath  and  exhausted ; 4  and,  shedding  tears  for  herself,  at 
last  sank  down  in  the  snow,  saying,  "I  will  repeat  the 
Lord's  prayer ;"  and  drawing  her  plaid  more  closely  around 
her,  she  whispered,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven,  hal- 
lowed be  thy  name ;  thy  kingdom  come ;  thy  will  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven." 

9.  The  maiden,  having  prayed  to  her  Father  in  heaven, 
then  thought  of  her  father  on  earth.  Alas,  they  were  not  far 
separated.  The  father  was  lying  but  a  short  distance  from 
his  child.  He,  too,  had  sunk  down  in  the  drifting  snow, 
after  having  in  less  than  an  hour  exhausted  all  the  strength 
of  fear,  pity,  hope,  despair,  and  resignation  that  could  rise 
in  a  father's  heart  vainly  seeking  to  rescue  his  own  child 
from  death.  There  they  lay,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  each 
other,  while  a  huge  snow-drift  was  every  moment  piling 
itself  up  into  a  more  insurmountable5  barrier6  between  the 
dying  parent  and  his  dying  child. 

1  In  ter'  min  a  bly,  without  limit    ried  ;  deprived  of  all  strength. 

or  end.  6  Irf  sur  mount'  a  ble,  not  capa 

2  "Waft'  ed,  borne  or  carried.  ble  of  being  surmounted,  overcome, 
8  Inv  sen  si  bil'  i  ty,  want  of  the    or  passed  over. 

power  of  perceiving  or  feeling.  6  Bar'  ri  er,  a  line  of  separation ; 

*  Exhausted,  (egzhast'ed),  wea-    any  obstruction. 


THE    SNOW-STORM.  261 

V. 

119.     THE   SNOW-STORM. 
PART  THIED. 

"  ~T  DO  not  like  the  night,"  said  William  Grieve,  her  mas- 
JL  ter's  son ;  "  there  will  be  a  fresh  fall  of  snow,  soon,  or 
the  witch  of  Glen-Scrae  is  a  liar ;  for  a  snow-cloud  is  hang- 
ing o'er  the  Birch-tree-lin,  and  it  may  be  down  to  the 
Black-moss  as  soon  as  Hannah  Lee."  So  he  called  his 
two  sheep-dogs  that  had  taken  their  place  under  the  long 
table,  before  the  window,  and  set  out,  half  in  joy,  half  in 
fear,  to  overtake  Hannah,  and  see  her  safely  across  the 
Black-moss. 

2.  The  snow  began  to  drift  so  fast,  that,  before  he  had 
reached  the  head  of  the  glen,  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen 
but  a  little  bit  of  the  wooden  rail  of  the  bridge  across  the 
stream.  William  Grieve  was  the  most  active  shepherd  in 
the  whole  parish  :  he  had  often  passed  the  night  among  the 
wintery  hills  for  the  sake  of  a  few  sheep,  and  all  the  snow 
that  ever  fell  from  the  heavens  would  not  have  made  him 
turn  back  when  Hannah  Lee  was  before  him,  and,  as  his 
terrified  heart  told  him,  in  imminent  danger  of  being  lost. 

3.  He  knew  the  path  that  Hannah  must  have  taken,  and 
went  forward,  shouting  aloud,  and  stopping  every  twenty 
yards  to  listen  for  her  voice.  He  sent  his  well-trained  dogs 
over  the  snow,  in  all  directions,  repeating  to  them  her 
name — "  Hannah  Lee" — that  the  dumb  animals  might,  in 
their  sagacity,1  know  for  whom  they  were  searching.  Often 
they  went  off  into  the  darkness,  and  as  often  returned ;  but 
their  looks  showed  that  every  quest 2  had  been  in  vain. 

4.  Meanwhile  the  snow  was  of  a  fearful  depth,  and  fall- 
ing without  intermission3  or  diminution.4  Still,  there  was 
no  trace  of  poor  Hannah  Lee  ;  and  one  of  his  dogs  at  last 
came  to  his  feet,  worn  out  entirely,  and  afraid  to  leave  its 

1  Sa  gac'  i  ty,  quickness  to  see  a  stopping  from  time  to  time ;  a 
and  know  ;  keenness  of  scent.  short  pause. 

2  Quest,  search ;  act  of  searching.        *  Dimv  i  nu'  tion,  decrease,  grow. 
8  Intermission,  (iny  termlsV  un),    ing  less. 


262 


NATIONAL    THIRD    DEADER. 


master ;  while  the  other  was  mute,1  and,  as  the  shepherd 
thought,  probably  unable  to  force  its  way  out  of  some  hol- 
low, or  through  some  floundering2  drift. 

5.  Then  he  all  at  once  knew  that  Hannah  Leo  was  dead, 
and  dashed  himself  down  in  the  snow,  in  a  fit  of  despair. 
But  presently  he  heard  the  barking  of  his  absent  dog,  while 
the  one  at  his  feet  hurried  off  in  the  direction  of  the  sound, 


1  Mute,  wearied  into  silence  ;  ut- 
tering no  sound ;  silent. 


2  Floun'  der  ing,  causing  violent 
and  irregular  motions. 


THE    SNOWSTORM  263 

and  soon  loudly  joined  the  cry.     It  was  not  a  bark  of  sur- 
prise, or  anger,  or  fear,  but  of  recognition x  and  love. 

6.  William  sprang  up  from  his  bed  in  the  snow,  and,  wifh 
his  heart  knocking  at  his  bosom,  even  to  sickness,  he  rushed 
headlong  through  the  drifts,  with  a  giant's  strength,  and 
fell  down,  half  dead  with  joy  and  terror,  beside  the  body 
of  Hannah  Lee. 

7.  But  he  soon  recovered  from  that  fit,  and,  lifting  the 
cold  corpse 2  in  his  arms,  he  kissed  her  lips,  and  her  cheeks, 
and  her  forehead,  and  her  closed  eyes,  till,  as  he  kept  gaz- 
ing on  her  face  in  utter  despair,  her  head  fell  back  on  his 
shoulder,  and  a  long,  deep  sigh  came  from  her  inmost 
bosom.3 

8.  The  short-lived  rage  of  the  storm  was  now  over,  and 
William  could  attend  to  the  beloved  being  on  his  bosom. 
The  warmth  of  his  heart  seemed  to  infuse 4  life  into  hers ; 
and,  as  he  gently  placed  her  feet  on  the  snow,  till  he  muf- 
fled her  up  in  his  plaid,  as  well  as  in  her  own,  she  made  an 
effort  to  stand,  and  with  extreme  perplexity 5  and  bewilder- 
ment,6 faintly  inquired  where  she  was,  and  what  fearful  mis- 
fortune had  befallen  them.  She  was,  however,  too  weak  to 
walk ;  and  as  her  young  master  carried  her  along,  she  mur- 
mured, "  O  William,  what  if  my  father  be  in  the  moor  ? 
For  if  you,  who  need  care  so  little  about  me,  have  come  to 
save  my  life,  you  may  be  sure  that  my  father  sat  not  within 
doors  during  the  storm. 

9.  As  she  spoke,  there  came  staggering  forward  the 
figure  of  a  man.  "  Father,  father !"  cried  Hannah,  and  his 
gray  hairs  were  already  on  her  cheek.  The  barking  of  the 
dogs  and  the  shouting  of  the  young  shepherd  had  struck 
his  ear  as  the  sleep  of  death  was  stealing  over  him,  and 
with  the  last  effort  of  benumbed  nature  he  had  roused  him 

1  Recognition,  (rekv  bg  nish'  un),  *  In  fuse',  to  pour  into ;    to  in 

the  act  of  knowing  again  ;  remem-  troduce. 

brance  of  a  person  or  thing.  *  Per  plex'  i  ty,  difficulty ;  atrou 

8  Corpse,  (karps),  a  human  body  bled  state ;  not  knowing  what  to  do. 

in  general,  whether  living  or  dead  ;  6  Be  wil"  der  ment,   a    state    in 

the  dead  body  of  a  human  being.  which     one    becomes     unconscious 

8  Bosom,  (buz  urn)  where  he  is  or  what  he  is  doing 


264  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

self  from  that  fatal  torpor,1  and  pressed  through  the  snow- 
drift that  had  separated  him  from  his  child. 

10.  The  old  man  was  soon  able  to  assist  William  Grieve 
in  leading  Hannah  along  through  the  snow.  The  night 
was  now  almost  calm,  and  fast  returning  to  its  former 
beauty,  when  the  party  saw  the  first  twinkle  of  the  fire 
through  the  low  window  of  the  cottage  of  the  moor. 

11.  There  is  little  need  to  speak  of  returning  recollection 
and  returning  strength.  They  had  all  now  power  to  weep 
and  power  to  pray.  The  Bible  had  been  lying  in  its  place, 
ready  for  worship,  and  the  father  read  aloud  that  chapter 
in  which  is  narrated  our  Saviour's  act  of  miraculous  power, 
by  which  he  saved  Peter  from  the  sea. 

12.  Soon  as  the  solemn  thoughts  awakened  by  that  act 
of  mercy — so  similar  to  that  which  had  rescued  themselves 
from  death — had  subsided,  and  they  had  all  risen  up  from 
prayer,  they  gathered  themselves  in  gratitude  round  the 
little  table  which  had  stood  so  many  hours  spread,  and  ex~ 
hausted  nature  was  strengthened  and  restored  by  a  frugal 
and  simple  meal,  partaken  of  in  silent  thankfulness. 

13.  "Within  these  three  hours,  William  and  Hannah  had 
led  a  life  of  trouble  and  of  joy,  that  had  enlarged  and 
kindled  their  hearts  within  them  ;  and  they  felt  that  hence- 
forth they  were  to  live  wholly  for  each  other's  sake.  His 
love  was  the  proud  and  exulting  love  of  a  deliverer,  who, 
under  Providence,  had  saved  from  the  frost  and  the  snow 
the  innocence  and  the  beauty  of  which  his  young,  passionate 
heart  had  been  so  desperately  enamored;2  and  he  now 
thought  of  his  own  Hannah  Lee,  ever  moving  about  his 
father's  house,  not  as  a  servant,  but  as  a  daughter ;  and, 
when  some  few  happy  years  had  gone  by,  his  own  most 
beautiful  and  most  loving  wife. 

14.  The  innocent  maiden  still  called  him  her  young  mas- 
ter, but  was  not  ashamed  of  the  holy  affection  which  she 
now  knew  that  she  had  long  felt  for  the  fearless  youth  on 
whose  bosom  she  had  thought  herself  dying,  in  that  cold 

1  Tor'  por,  loss  of  motion,  or  of  2  En  am'  ored,  captivated  with 
the  power  of  motion  ;  numbness.         love  ;  charmed. 


YOUTH    AND    SORROW.  265 

and  miserable  moor.  Her  heart  leaped  within  her  when 
she  heard  her  par'ents  bless  him  by  his  name ;  and,  when 
he  took  her  hand  into  his,  before  them,  and  vowed,  before 
that  Power  who  had  that  night  saved  them  from  the  snow, 
that  Hannah  Lee  should,  ere  long,  be  his  wedded  wife,  she 
wept  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break,  in  a  fit  of 
strange  and  insupportable  happiness. 

15.  The  young  shepherd  rose  to  bid  them  farewell :  "  My 
father  will  think  I  am  lost,"  said  he  with  a  grave  smile, 
"  and  my  Hannah's  mother  knows  what  it  is  to  fear  for  a 
child."  So  nothing  was  said  to  detain  him,  and  the  family 
went  with  him  to  the  door.  The  sky  smiled  as  serenely  as 
if  a  storm  had  never  swept  before  the  stars ;  the  moon  was 
sinking  from  her  meridian,  but  in  cloudless  splendor. 
Danger  there  was  none  over  the  placid  night  scene. 

Altered  from  Wilson. 


SECTION  XXIV. 
i. 

120.    YOUTH   AND    SORROW. 

"  /~^  ET  thee  back,  Sorrow,  get  thee  back ! 

V3T  My  brow  is  smooth,  mine  eyes  are  bright, 
My  limbs  are  full  of  health  and  strength, 

My  cheeks  are  fresh,  my  heart  is  light. 
So,  get  thee  back !  oh,  get  thee  back ! 

Consort' '  with  ag§,  but  not  with  me ; 
Why  shouldst  thou  follow  on  my  track?. 

I  am  too  young  to  live  with  thee." 

%   "  O  foolish  Youth,2  to  scorn  thy  friend ! 

To  harm  thee  wherefore 3  should  I  seek  ? 
I  would  not  dim  thy  sparkling  eyes, 
Nor  blight  the  roses  on  thy  cheek. 

1  Con  sort',  to  unite  or  join,  as  in        a  Youth,  (y6th). 
affection,  harmony,  company,  etc.  ?  Wherefore,  (Vh&r'  for), 

12 


2G6  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

I  would  but  teach  thee  to  be  true ; 

And  should  I  press  thee  overmuch, 
Ever  the  flowers  that  I  bedew ! 

Yield  sweetest  fragrance  to  the  touchy 

3.  "  Get  thee  back,  Sorrow,  get  thee  back ! 

I  like  thee  not ;  thy  looks  are  chill ; 
The  sunshine  lies  upon  my  heart, 

Thou  showest  me  the  shadow  still. 
So,  get  thee  back !  oh,  get  thee  back ! 

Nor  touch  my  golden  locks  with  gray, 
Why  shouldst  thou  follow  on  my  track  ? 

Let  me  be  happy  while  I  may." 

4.  "  Good  friend,  thou  needest  sage  advice ; 

I'll  keep  thy  heart  from  growing  proud, 
I'll  fill  thy  mind  with  kindly  thoughts, 

And  link  thy  pity  to  the  crowd. 
Wouldst  have  a  heart  of  pulseless  stone  ? 

"Wouldst  be  too  happy  to  be  good  ? 
Nor  make  a  human  woe  thine  own  ? 

For  sake  of  human  brotherhood?" 

5.  "  Get  thee  back,  Sorrow,  get  thee  back ! 

"Why  should  I  weep  while  I  am  young  ? 
I  have  not  piped — I  have  not  danced — 

My  morning  songs  I  have  not  sung : 
The  world  is  beautiful  to  me, 

Why  tarnish  it  to  soul  and  sense  ? 
Prifhee,  begone !     I'll  think  of  thee 

Some  half  a  hundred  winters  hence." 

6.  "  O  foolish  Youth,  thou  know'st  me  not : 

I  am  the  mistress  of  the  earth : 
'Tis  I  give  tenderness  to  love ; 

Enhance 2  the  privilege  of  mirth ; 
Refine  the  human  gold  from  dross ; 

And  teach  thee,  wormling  of  the  sod, 

1  Bedew,  (be  du'),  moisten  gently;        3  Enhance,  (en  hans1),  raise  to  a 
wet  with  dew.  higher  point ;  advance  ;  increase. 


THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK.  26? 

To  look  beyond  thy  present  loss 
To  thy  eternal l  gain  with  God." 

7.  "  Get  thee  back,  Sorrow,  get  thee  back ! 

I'll  learn  thy  lessons  soon  enongh ; 
If  virtuous  pleasures  smooth  my  way, 

Why  shouldst  thou  seek  to  make  it  rough  ? 
No  fruit  can  ripen  in  the  dark, 

No  bud  can  bloom  in  constant  cold — 
So,  prithee,  Sorrow,  miss  thy  mark, 

Or  strike  me  not  till  I  am  old." 

8.  "I  am  thy  friend,  thy  best  of  friends ; 

No  bud  in  constant  heats  can  blow — 
The  green  fruit  withers  in  the  drought,2 

But  ripens  where  the  waters  flow. 
The  sorrows  of  thy  youthful  day 

Shall  make  thee  wise  in  coming  years ; 
The  brightest  rainbows  ever  play 
Above  the  fountains  of  our  tears." 

9.  Youth  frowned,  but  Sorrow  gently  smiled ; 

Upon  his  heart  her  hand  she  laid, 
And  all  its  hidden  sympathies 

Throbbed  to  the  fingers  of  the  maid : 
And  when  his  head  grew  gray  wifh  Time, 

He  owned  that  Sorrow  spoke  the  truth, 
And  that  the  harvest  of  his  prime 

Was  ripened  by  the  rains  of  Youth. 

Charles  Mackay. 

n. 

121.    THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK. 
PART  FIRST. 

SOON  after  my  grandfather,  Mr.  Lemuel  Cockloft,  had 
quietly  settled  himself  at  the  hall,  and  just  about  the 
time  that  the  gossips  of  the  neighborhood,  tired  of  prying 
into  his  affairs,  were  anxious  for  some  new  tea-table  topic, 

1  Eternal,  (e  teY  nal),  having  no        2  Drought,  (drout),  want  of  rain;  a 
beginning  or  end ;  ceaseless.  long  continuance  of  dry  weather- 

I 


268  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

the  busy  community  of  our  little  village  was  thrown  into  a 
grand  turmoil1  of  curiosity  and  conjecture2 — a  situation 
very  common  to  little  gossiping  villages — by  the  sudden 
and  unaccountable  appearance  of  a  mysterious 3  individual. 

2.  The  object  of  this  solicitude4  was  a  little  black-looking 
man,  of  a  foreign  aspect,  who  took  possession  of  an  old 
building,  which,  having  long  had  the  reputation5  of  being 
haunted,6  was  in  a  state  of  ruinous  desolation,7  and  an 
object  of  fear  to  all  true  believers  in  ghosts.  He  usually 
wore  a  high  sugar-loaf  hat  wifh  a  narrow  brim ;  and  a  little 
black  cloak,  which,  short  as  he  was,  scarcely  reached  below 
his  knees. 

3.  He  sought  no  intimacy  or  acquaintance  with  any  one  ; 
appeared  to  take  no  interest  in  the  pleasures  or  the  little 
broils  of  the  village  ;  nor  ever  talked,  except  sometimes  to 
himself  in  an  outlandish8  tongue.  He  commonly  carried  a 
large  book,  covered  with  sheepskin,  under  his  arm;  ap- 
peared always  to  be  lost  in  meditation ;  and  was  often  met 
by  the  peasantry,  sometimes  watching  the  dawning  of  day ; 
sometimes,  at  noon,  seated  under  a  tree  poring  over  his 
volume  ;  and  sometimes,  at  evening,  gazing  with  a  look  of 
sober  tranquillity9  at  the  sun  as  it  gradually  sunk  below  the 
horl'zon.10 

4  The  good  people  of  the  vicinity  beheld  something 
prodigiously  u  singular  in  all  this ; — a  profound 12  mystery 

1  Turmoil,    (teV  mail),   annoying  dition  of  being  laid  waste,  or  left  in 

labor  ;  trouble  ;  disturbance.  a  ruinous  or  neglected  condition. 

a  Con  ject'  ure,  the  making  up  of        8  Out  land'  ish,   strange  ;    rude  ; 

an  opinion  on  scanty  or  faulty  proofs,  not  agreeing  with  usage ;  foreign. 

3  Mys  te'  ri  ous,  obscure ;  wholly  9  Tranquillity,  ( tran  kwil'  i  tf), 
anknown.  peace  ;  quiet ;  freedom  from  care  or 

4  So  lio'  i  tude,    trouble  ;    care  ;  trouble. 

anxiety.  10  Ho  ri'  zon,    the    circle    which 

6  Rep^  u  ta'  tion,  general  credit ;  bounds  that  part  of  the  earth's  sur- 

the  character  said   to  belong  to  a  face  which  may  be  seen  by  a  person 

person,  thing,  or  action.  from  a  given  place  ;  the  place  where 

6  Haunted,  (hint'  ed),   inhabited  the  earth  and  sky  seem  to  meet, 
by,  or  liable  to  the  visits  of  appari-        u  Prodigious  v.  (pro  did'  jus  It), 
tions  or  ghosts.  extremely  ;  amazingly. 

7  DesN  o  la'  tion,  the  state  or  con-        12  Pro  found',  deep  ;  very  great. 


THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK.  269 

seemed  to  hang  about  the  stranger,  which,  with  all  their 
sagacity,  they  could  not  penetrate  ; 1  and,  in  the  excess  of 
worldly  charity,  they  pronounced  it  a  sure  sign  "  that  he 
was  no  better  than  he  should  be," — a  phrase  innocent 
enough  in  itself,  but  which,  as  applied  in  common,  signifies 
nearly  every  thing  that  is  bad. 

5.  The  young  people  thought  him  a  gloomy  mis'anthrope,2 
because  he  never  joined  in  their  sports ;  the  old  men 
thought  still  more  hardly  of  him  because  he  followed  no 
trade,  nor  ever  seemed  ambitious  of  earning  a  farthing ; 
and  as  to  the  old  gossips,  baffled  by  the  inflexible 3  tacitur- 
nity4 of  the  stranger,  they  unanimously  decreed  that  a 
man  who  could  not  or  would  not  talk  was  no  better  than  a 
dumb  beast.  The  little  man  in  black,  careless  of  their 
opinions,  seemed  resolved  to  maintain  the  liberty  of  keep- 
ing his  own  secret ;  and  the  consequence  was,  that,  in  a 
little  while,  the  whole  village  was  in  an  uproar ; — for,  in 
little  communities  of  this  description,  the  members  have 
always  the  privilege  of  being  thoroughly  versed,  and  even 
of  meddling  in  all  the  affairs  of  each  other. 

6.  A  confidential5  conference6  was  held  one  Sunday 
morning  after  sermon,  at  the  door  of  the  village  church, 
and  the  character  of  the  unknown  fully  investigated.7  The 
schoolmaster  gave  as  his  opinion,  that  he  was  the  wander- 
ing Jew ; 8  the  sexton  was  certain  that  he  must  be  a  Free- 


1  Pen'  e  trate,  see  through  or  un-  8  The  wandering  Jew,  an  im- 

derstand.  aginary  (not   real)  man,   connected 

3  Mis' an  thrope,  a  hater  of  man-  with  the  history  of  Christ's  death, 

kind  ;  a  man-hater.  As  the  Saviour  was  on  his  way  to 

3  In  flex'  i  ble,  stubborn ;  that  the  place  where  he  was  slain,  weary 
can  not  be  turned  or  changed.  with  the  weight   of  the  cross,  he 

4  Taciturnity,  (tasN  i  tern'  i  ti),  wished  to  rest  on  a  stone  before  the 
habitual  or  intentional  silence  ;  re-  house  of  a  Jew,  whom  the  story 
serve  in  speaking.  calls    Ahasuerus,   who    drove    him 

5  Conv  fi  den'  tial,  secret.  away  with  curses.     Jesus    calmly 
8  Con'  fer  ence,  a  meeting  held  said,  "  Thou  shalt  wander  on  the 

for  conversation,  or  an  interchange  earth  till  I  return."    Driven  by  feai 

of  views.  and  remorse,  he  has  since  wandered 

* 1n  ves'  ti  gat  ed,  followed  up  ;  from  place  to  place  without  bein§ 

searched  into.  able  to  find  a  grave. 


270  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

mason,  from  his  silence ;  a  third  maintained,  with  great 
obstinacy,1  that  he  was  a  high  German  doctor,  and  that 
the  book  which  he  carried  about  with  him  contained  the 
secrets  of  .the  black-art ;  but  the  most  prevailing  opinion 
seemed  to  be  that  he  was  a  witch, — a  race  of  beings  at 
that  time  abounding  in  those  parts  ;  and  a  sagacious 2  old 
matron3  from  Connecticut  proposed  to  ascertain  the  fact  by 
sousing  him  into  a  kettle  of  hot  water. 

7.  Suspicion,4  when  once  afloat,  goes  with  wind  and 
tide,  and  soon  becomes  certainty.  Many  a  stormy  night 
was  the  little  man  in  black  seen,  by  the  flashes  of  lightning, 
frisking  and  curveting 5  in  the  air  upon  a  broomstick ;  and 
it  was  always  observed,  that  at  those  times  the  storm  did 
more  mischief  than  at  any  other.  The  old  lady  in  partic- 
ular, who  suggested  the  humane'  ordeal6  of  the  boiling 
kettle,  lost  on  one  of  these  occasions  a  fine  brinded7  cow, 
which  accident  was  entirely  ascribed  to  the  vengeance  of 
the  little  man  in  black. 

8.  If  ever  a  mischievous  hireling  rode  his  master's  favor- 
ite horse  to  a  distant  frolic,  and  the  animal  was  observed 
to  be  lame  and  jaded  in  the  morning,  the  little  man  in  black 
was  sure  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  affair ;  nor  could  a  high 
wind  howl  through  the  village  at  night,  but  the  old  women 
shrugged  up  their  shoulders,  and  observed,  "  the  little  man 
in  black  was  in  his  tantrums"*  In  short,  he  became  the 
bugbear  of  every  house,  and  was  as  effectual  in  frightening 
little  children  into  obedience  and  hysterics  as  the  redoubt- 
able9 Raw-head- and-bloody-b ones  himself;   nor  could   a 

1  Ob'  sti na cy, a  fixedness  in  ones  6  Curveting,  (ker'  vet  ing),  leap- 
belief  or  purpose  that   can  not  be  ing ;  bounding  ;  frolicking, 
shaken  or  moved  at  all,  or  not  with-  6  Or'  de  al,  a  severe  trial ;  trial  of 
out  great  labor.  guilt  by  fire  or  water.     The  phrase, 

2  Sa  ga'  cious,  quick  to  see  and  to  go  through  fire  and  water,  mean- 
understand  ;  shrewd ;  wise.  ing  severe    trial,    comes    from  the 

8  Ma'  tron,    an    elderly  married  ordeal, 
woman ,  an  elderly  lady.  7  Brind'  ed,  streaked  ;  spotted. 

4  Suspicion,  (sua  pish'  un),  act  of        8  Tan'  trum,  a  whim  or  burst  of 

imagining  or  mistrusting  something  ill  humor. 

on  slight  proof;   distrust;  want  of        9  Redoutable,    (re    dout'  a  ble), 

confidence.  fearful ;  to  be  dreaded. 


THE    LITTLE    MA^    IN    BLACK.  271 

housewife  of  the  village  sleep  in  peace,  except  under  the 
guardianship  of  a  horse-shoe  nailed  to  the  door. 

9.  The  object  of  these  direful  suspicions  remained  for 
some  time  totally  ignorant  of  the  wonderful  quandary1  he 
had  occasioned  ;  but  he  was  soon  doomed  to  feel  its  effects. 
An  individual  who  is  once  so  unfortunate  as  to  incur  the 
odium  of  a  village,  is  in  a  great  measure  outlawed  and  pro* 
scribed,2  and  becomes  a  mark  for  injury  and  insult,  partici> 
larly  if  he  has  not  the  power  or  the  disposition  to  recrim- 
inate.3 

10.  The  little  venomous4  passions,  which  in  the  great 
world  are  dissipated5  and  weakened  by  being  widely  dif- 
fused,6 act  in  the  narrow  limits  of  a  country  town  wifh  col- 
lected vigor,  and  become  rancorous 7  in  proportion  as  they 
are  confined  in  their  sphere  of  action.  The  little  man  in 
black  experienced  the  truth  of  this.  Every  mischievous 
urchin  returning  from  school  had  full  liberty  to  break  his 
windows,  and  this  was  considered  as  a  most  daring  exploit ; 
for  in  such  awe  did  they  stand  of  him,  that  the  most  adven- 
turous schoolboy  was  never  seen  to  approach  his  threshold, 
and  at  night  would  prefer  going  round  by  the  cross-roads, 
where  a  traveler  had  been  murdered  by  the  Indians,  rather 
than  pass  by  the  door  of  his  forlorn  habitation. 

11.  The  only  living  creature  that  seemed  to  have  any  care 
or  affection  for  this  deserted  being,  was  an  old  turnspit,8— 
the  companion  of  his  lonely  mansion  and  his  solitary  wan- 
dering— the  sharer  of  his  scanty  meals — and,  sorry  I  am  to 
say  it,  the  sharer  of  his  persecutions.  The  turnspit,  like 
his  master,  was  peaceable  and  inoffensive ;  never  known  to 

1  Quandary,  (kw6n  da  rl),  a  state  4  Veil'  om  ous,  poisonous ;  spite 

of  perplexity  or  difficulty  ;  doubt ;  ful ;  mischievous, 

uncertainty.  6  Dis'  si  pat  ed,  driven  asunder 

a  Proscribed,    (pro  skrlbd'),    put  scattered, 

out  of  the  protection  of  the  law ;  de-  6  Diffused,  (dif  fuzf1'),  poured  out 

nounced  and  condemned  as  danger-  spread  in  all  directions, 

ous  or  unworthy  to  be  received.  7  Rancorous,  (rangk'  3r  fis),  very 

3  Re  crim'  i  nate,  to  return  one  bitter;  spiteful  in  the  greatest  degree, 

charge  of  crime  with  another ;  to  8  Turnspit,  (tfirn'  spit),  a  kind  of 

charge  an  accuser  with  the  same  dog ; — bo  called  from  being  formerly 

crime  or  fault.  employed  to  turn  a  spit. 


272  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

bark  at  a  horse,  to  growl  at  a  traveler,  or  to  quarrel  wifli 
the  dogs  of  the  neighborhood.  He  followed  close  at  his 
master's  heels  when  he  went  out,  and  when  he  returned 
stretched  himself  in  the  sunbeams  at  the  door,  demeaning l 
himself  in  all  things  like  a  civil  and  well-disposed  turnspit. 

12.  But  notwithstanding  his  exemplary2  deportment,3  he 
fell  likewise  under  the  ill  report  of  the  village,  as  being  the 
familiar  of  the  little  man  in  black,  and  the  evil  spirit  thai 
presided  at  his  incantations.4  The  old  hovel  was  considered 
as  the  scene  of  their  unhallowed  rites,  and  its  harmless 
tenants  regarded  with  a  detesta'tion5  which  their  inoffen- 
sive conduct  never  merited.  Though  pelted  and  jeered  at 
by  the  brats  of  the  village,  and  frequently  abused  by  their 
parents,  the  little  man  in  black  never  turned  to  rebuke 
them ;  and  his  faithful  dog,  when  wantonly  assaulted,  looked 
up  wistfully  in  his  master's  face,  and  there  learned  a  lesson 
of  patience  and  forbearance. 

13.  The  movements  of  this  inscrutable 6  being  had  long 
been  the  subject  of  speculation7  at  Cockloft-hall,  for  its  in- 
mates were  full  as  much  given  to  wondering  as  their  des- 
cendants. The  patience  with  which  he  bore  his  persecutions 
particularly  surprised  them,  for  patience  is  a  virtue  but 
little  known  in  the  Cockloft  family.  My  grandmother,  who 
it  appears  was  rather  superstitious,  saw  in  this  humility 
nothing  but  the  gloomy  sullenness  of  a  wizard,8  who  res- 
trained himself  for  the  present,  in  hopes  of  midnight  ven- 
geance ; — the  parson  of  the  village,  who  was  a  man  of  some 
reading,  pronounced  it  the  stubborn  insensibility  of  a  stoic 

1  De  mean'  frig,  behaving  or  con-  6  Inscrutable,  (in  skr6"  ta  bl),  un- 
ducting.  searchable ;  not  to  be  discovered  or 

2  Exemplary ,    (egz'  em  pla  rf ),  understood  by  human  reason, 
serving  for  a  pattern  ;  worthy  of        7  Specr  u  la'  tion,  views  of  a  sub- 
imitation,  ject  or  thing  not  proved  to  be  tru 

3  De  port'  ment,  manner  of  act-  by  fact  or  experience. 

ing  toward  others ;  behavior.  8  Wiz'  ard,    an    enchanter  ;   one 

4  Incantations,  (in  kan  tashunz),  supposed  to  be  able  to  perform  re. 
magic  charms  ;  supposed  influences  markable  acts  by  the  aid  of  spirits 
that  can  not  be  resisted  or  overcome,  or  unseen  powers. 

5  Detr  es  ta'  tion,  extreme  or  9  Sto'  ic,  one  who  is  cold  and  un 
very  great  hatred.  feeling  ,  one  not  easily  excited. 


THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK.  27o 

philosopher ; — my  grandfather,  who,  worthy  soul,  seldom 
wandered  abroad  in  search  of  conclusions,  took  a  data1 
from  his  own  excellent  heart,  and  regarded  it  as  the  humble 
forgiveness  of  a  Christian.  But  however  different  were 
their  opinions  as  to  the  character  of  the  stranger,  they 
agreed  in  one  particular,  namely,  in  never  intruding  upoE 
his  solitude ;  and  my  grandmother,  who  was  at  that  time 
nursing  my  mother,  never  left  the  room  without  wisely  put- 
ting the  large  family  Bible  in  the  cradle, — a  sure  talisman,5 
in  her  opinion,  against  witchcraft  and  necromancy.3 

III. 

122.     THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACK. 

PART  SECOND. 

NE  stormy  winter  night,  when  a  bleak  northeast  wind 


o 


moaned  about  the  cottages,  and  howled  around  the 
village  steeple,  my  grandfather  was  returning  from  club, 
preceded  by  a  servant  with  a  lantern.  Just  as  he  arrived 
opposite  the  desolate  abode  of  the  little  man  in  black,  he 
was  arrested  by  the  piteous  howling  of  a  dog,  which,  heard 
in  the  pauses  of  a  storm,  was  exquisitely 4  mournful ;  and 
he  fancied  now  and  then  that  he  caught  the  low  and  broken 
groans  of  some  one  in  distress. 

2.  He  stopped  for  some  minutes,  hesitating  between  the 
benevolence  of  his  heart  and  a  sensation  of  genuine  deli- 
cacy, which,  in  spite  of  his  eccentricity,5  he  fully  possessed, 
and  which  forbade  him  to  pry  into  the  concerns  of  his 
neighbors.  Perhaps,  too,  this  hesitation  might  have  been 
strengthened  by  a  little  taint  of  superstition : 6  for  surely, 

1  Da'  ta,  things  or  truths  used  to  4  Exquisitely,    ( eks'  kwi  zit  1? ) 

find  results.  completely  ;  very  keenly  felt. 

a  Talisman,    (til'  iz  man),    some-  6  Ecr  cen  trie  i  ty,  the  quality  ol 

thing    to   which   wonderful   effects  being  peculiar,  odd,  or  strange ;  sin 

were  ascribed,  such  as  preservation  gularity. 

from  sickness,  injury,  etc.  6  Sur  per  sti'  tion,  an  unfounded 

3  Nee'  ro  man  cy,  the  art  of  mak-  or  groundless  belief  in  the  existence 
ing  known  what  is  to  happen,  by  of  particular  facts  or  events,  pro- 
means  of  a  pretended  communication  duced  by  a  power  beyond  what  is 
with  the  dead  ;  enchantment.  human 


27tt  NATIONAL     THIRD     READER. 

if  the  unknown  had  been  addicted  to  witchcraft,  this  was  a 
most  propitious1  night  for  his  vagaries.2  At  length  the  old 
gentleman's  philanthropy3  predominated ; 4  he  approached 
the  hovel,  and  pushing  open  the  door, — for  poverty  has  no 
occasion  for  locks  and  keys, — beheld,  by  the  light  of  the 
lantern,  a  scene  that  smote  his  generous  heart  to  the  core. 

3.  On  a  miserable  bed,  with  pallid  and  emaciated6  vis- 
age 6  and  hollow  eyes,  in  a  room  destitute  of  every  conven- 
ience, without  fire  to  warm  or  friend  to  console  him,  lay 
this  helpless  mortal,  who  had  been  so  long  the  terror  and 
wonder  of  the  village.  His  dog  wras  crouching  on  the 
scanty  coverlet,  and  shivering  with  cold.  My  grandfather 
stepped  softly  and  hesitatingly  to  the  bedside,  and  ac- 
costed the  forlorn  sufferer  in  his  usual  accents  of  kindness. 
The  little  man  in  black  seemed  recalled  by  the  tones  of 
compassion  from  the  lethargy7  into  which  he  had  fallen  ; 
for,  though  his  heart  was  almost  frozen,  there  was  yet  one 
chord  that  answered  to  the  call  of  the  good  old  man  who 
bent  over  him  :  the  tones  of  sympathy,  so  novel  to  his  ear, 
called  back  his  wandering  senses,  and  acted  like  a  restor- 
ative to  his  solitary  feelings. 

4.  He  raised  his  eyes,  but  they  were  vacant  and  haggard. 
He  put  forth  his  hand,  but  it  was  cold.  He  essayed  to 
speak,  but  the  sound  died  away  in  his  throat.  He  pointed 
to  his  mouth  with  an  expression  of  dreadful  meaning,  and, 
sad  to  relate !  my  grandfather  understood  that  the  harm- 
less stranger,  deserted  by  society,  wras  perishing  with  hun- 
ger !  With  the  quick  impulse  of  humanity  he  dispatched 
the  servant  to  the  hall  for  refreshment.  A  little  warm 
nourishment  renovated  him  for  a  short  time,  but  not  long. 
It  was  evident  his  pilgrimage  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and 

1  Propitious,  (pro  pish'us),  highly  5  Emaciated,  (e  ma'  shi  at  ed), 
favorable  to  success.  wasted  away  in  flesh  ;  made  lean  by 

2  Vagaries,      (va  gk'  rez),      wild  sorrow,  want,  or  other  cause, 
freaks  ;  whimsical  purposes;  6  Visage,  (viz'aj),  the  countenance, 

3  Phi  Ian'  thro  py,  love  of  man-  face,  or  look  of  a  person,  or  of  other 
kind  ;  good  will  toward  all  men.  animals. 

4  Pre  dom'  i  nat  ed,  prevailed  ;  n  Leth'  ar  gy,  unhealthy  drowsi 
gained  a  controlling  influence.  ness  ;  dullness. 


THE    LITTLE    MAN    IN    BLACE.  275 

he  was  about  entering  that  peaceful  asylum1  where  "the 
wicked  cease  from  troubling." 

5.  His  tale  of  misery  was  short  and  quickly  told.  In- 
firmities had  stolen  upon  him,  heightened  by  the  rigors  of 
the  season :  he  had  taken  to  his  bed  without  strength  to 
rise  and  ask  for  assistance ; — "  and  if  I  had,"  said  he,  in  a 
tone  of  bitter  despondency,2  "  to  whom  should  I  have  ap- 
plied ?  I  have  no  friend  that  I  know  of  in  the  world ;  the 
villagers  avoid  me  as  something  loathsome  and  dangerous ; 
and  here,  in  the  midst  of  Christians,  should  I  have  per- 
ished, without  a  fellow-being  to  soothe  the  last  moments  of 
existence,  and  close  my  dying  eyes,  had  not  the  howlings 
of  my  faithful  dog  excited  your  attention." 

6.  He  seemed  deeply  sensible  of  the  kindness  of  my 
grandfather ;  and  at  one  time,  as  he  looked  up  into  his  old 
benefactor's  face,  a  solitary  tear  was  observed  to  steal 
adown  the  parched  furrows  of  his  cheek.  Poor  outcast ! — 
it  was  the  last  tear  he  shed ;  but  I  warrant  it  was  not  the 
first  by  millions!  My  grandfather  watched  by  him  all 
night.  Toward  morning  he  gradually  declined,  and  as  the 
rising  sun  gleamed  through  the  window,  he  begged  to  be 
raised  in  his  bed  that  he  might  look  at  it  for  the  last 
time.  He  contemplated  it  for  a  moment  with  a  kind  of 
religious  enthusiasm,3  and  his  lips  moved  as  if  engaged  in 
prayer. 

7.  The  strange  conjectures  concerning  him  rushed  on  my 
grandfather's  mind  :  "He  is  an  idolater !"  thought  he,  "and 
is  worshiping  the  sun !"  He  listened  a  moment,  and  blushed 
at  his  own  uncharitable  suspicion :  he  was  only  engaged  in 
the  pious  devotions  of  a  Christian.  His  simple  or'ison4 
being  finished,  the  little  man  in  black  withdrew  his  eyes 
from  the  east,  and  taking  my  grandfather's  hand  in  one  of 
his,  and  making  a  motion  with  the  other  toward  the  sun — 

1  A  sy'lum,  an  institution  or  place  3  Enthusiasm,  (en  thu  zl  azm),  a 
for  the  benefit  of  the  destitute  or  un-  warm  zeal  in  respect  to  some  object 
fortunate  :  here  means  the  grave.  or  pursuit. 

2  Des  pond'  en  cy,  despair ;  hope-        *  Orison,  (6r  !  zon),  supplication 
lessness.  a  prayer. 


276  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER, 

"I  love  to  contem'plate  it,"  said  he :  "'tis  an  emblem1  of 
the  universal  benevolence  of  a  true  Christian ;  and  it  is  the 
most  glorious  work  of  Him  who  is  philanthropy  itself !" 

8.  My  grandfather  blushed  still  deeper  at  his  ungenerous 
surmises :  he  had  pitied  the  stranger  at  first,  but  now  he 
revered  him.  He  turned  once  more  to  regard  him,  but  his 
countenance  had  undergone  a  change  :  the  holy  enthusiasm 
that  had  lighted  up  each  feature,  had  given  place  to  an 
expression  of  mysterious  import:  a  gleam  of  grandeur 
seemed  to  steal  across  his  Gothic 2  visage,  and  he  appeared 
full  of  some  mighty  secret  which  he  hesitated  to  impart. 
He  raised  the  tattered  nightcap  that  had  sunk  almost  over 
his  eyes,  and  waving  his  withered  hand  with  a  slow  and 
feeble  expression  of  dignity — "In  me,"  said  he,  with  la- 
conic3 solemnity — "in  me  you  behold  the  last  descendant 
of  the  renowned  Linkum  Fidelius  !" 

9.  My  grandfather  gazed  at  him  wifh  reverence;  for 
though  he  had  never  heard  of  the  illustrious  personage 
thus  pompously  announced,  yet  there  was  a  certain  black- 
letter  dignity  in  the  name  that  particularly  struck  his  fancy 
and  commanded  his  respect.  "  You  have  been  kind  to  me," 
continued  the  little  man  in  black,  after  a  momentary  pause, 
"  and  richly  will  I  requite  your  kindness  by  making  you 
heir  to  my  treasures !  In  yonder  large  deal  box  are  the 
volumes  of  my  illustrious  ancestor,  of  which  I  alone  am 
the  fortunate  possessor.  Inherit  them,  ponder  over  them, 
and  be  wise !" 

10.  He  grew  faint  wrfti  the  exertion  he  had  made,  and 
sunk  back  almost  breathless  on  his  pillow.  His  hand, 
which,  inspired  with  the  importance  of  his  subject,  he  had 
raised  to  my  grandfather's  arm,  slipped  from  his  hold  and 
fell  over  the  side  ol  the  bed,  and  his  faithful  dog  licked  it, 
as  if  anxious  to  soothe  the  last  moments  of  his  dying  mas- 
ter and  testify  his  gratitude  to  the  hand  that  had  so  often 

1  Em'  blem,  a  type  or  figure  ;  a  a  people  that  once  inhabited  Sweden 

picture  imaging  forth  a  truth  or  les-  and  Norway ;  rude ;  dark, 

son  by  some  figure  or  scene.  8  La  con'  ic,  expressing  much  in 

*  Goth'ic,  pertaining  to  the  Goths,  few  words :  short. 


THE    MAY    QUEEN.  277 

cherished  him.  The  untaught  caresses  of  the  faithful  ani- 
mal were  not  lost  upon  his  dying  master :  he  raised  his 
languid  eyes,  turned  them  on  the  dog,  then  on  my  grand- 
father; and  having  given  this  silent  recommendation — 
closed  them  forever. 

11.  The  remains  of  the  little  man  in  black,  notwithstand- 
ing the  objections  of  many  pious  people,  were  decently 
interred  in  the  church-yard  of  the  village ;  and  his  spirit, 
harmless  as  the  body  it  once  animated,  has  never  been 
known  to  molest  a  living  being.  My  grandfather  complied, 
as  far  as  possible,  with  his  last  request :  he  conveyed  the 
volumes  of  Linkum  Fidelius  to  his  library;  he  pondered 
over  them  frequently ;  but  whether  he  grew  wiser,  the  tra- 
dition1 doth  not  mention.  This  much  is  certain,  that  his 
kindness  to  the  poor  descendant  of  Fidelius  was  amply 
rewarded  by  the  approbation  of  his  own  heart,  and  the 
devoted  attachment  of  the  old  turnspit,  who  transferred  his 
affection  from  his  deceased  master  to  his  benefactor,  and 
became  his  constant  attendant.  And  thus  was  the  Cock- 
loft library  first  enriched  by  the  invaluable  folios 2  of  the 
sage  Linkum  Fidelius.  Washington  Irving. 

IV. 

123.     THE    MAY    QUEEN. 

PAKT  FIEST. 

1. 

YOU  must  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother  dear: 
To-morrow  'ill  be  the  happiest  time  of  all  the  glad  New-year ; 
Of  all  the  glad  New-year,  mother,  the  maddest,  merriest  day  ; 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 

2. 
There's  many  a  black,  blaek  eye,  they  say,  but  none  so  bright 

as  mine  : 
There's  Margaret  and  Mary,  there's  Kate  and  Caroline  ; 

1  Tradition,  (tra  dish'  un),  the  un-  from  father  to  son,  or  from  age  to  age, 

written   delivery  of  opinions,  cus-  by  word  of  mouth,  not  in  writing, 
toms,  etc,  from  father  to  son  ;  some        3  Folios,  (f6'  l!  oz),  books  of  two 

story  or  report  that  is  handed  down  leaves  to  a  sheet ;  large  books. 


278 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 


Vn  .*^"i^^ 


But  none  so  fair  as  little  Alice  in  all  the  land,  they  say  ; 

So  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May 

3. 
I  sleep  so  sound  all  night,  mother,  that  I  shall  never  wake, 
If  you  do  not  call  me  loud  when  the  day  begins  to  break  ; 
But  I  must  gather  knots  of  flowers,  and  buds,  and  garlands  gay, 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 

4 
As  I  came  up  the  valley,  whom  think  ye  should  I  see, 
But  Eobin  leaning  on  the  bridge  beneath  the  hazel-tree? 
He  thought  of  that  sharp  look,  mother,  I  gave  him  yesterday, — 
But  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 

5. 
He  thought  I  was  a  ghost,  mother,  for  I  was  all  in  white  ; 
And  I  ran  by  him  without  speaking,  like  a  flash  of  light. 
They  call  me  cruel-hearted,  but  I  care  not  what  they  say, 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 


They  say  he's  dying  all  for  love — but  that  can  never  be  ; 
They  say  his  heart  is  breaking,  mother — what  is  that  to  me  ? 


THE    MAY    QUEEN  279 

There's  many  a  bolder  lad  'ill  woo  me  any  summer  day  ; 

And  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  tobe  Queen  o'  the  May. 

7. 

Little  Effie  shall  go  with  me  to-morrow  to  the  green, 
And  you'll  be  there  too,  mother,  to  see  me  made  the  Queen  ; 
For  the  shepherd-lads  on  every  side  'ill  come  from  far  away, 
And  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  tobe  Queen  o'  the  May. 

8. 
The  honeysuckle  round  the  porch  has  woven  its  wavy  bowers, 
And  by  the  meadow-trenches  blow  the  faint,  sweet  cuckoo-flowers; 
And  the  wild  marsh-marigold  shines  like  fire  in  swamps  and 

hollows  gray, 
And  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,I'm  to  be  Queen  o'the  May. 

9. 

The  night-winds  come  and  go,  mother,  upon  the  meadow-grass, 
And  the  happy  stars  above  them  seem  to  brighten  as  they  pass  ; 
There  will  not  be  a  drop  of  rain  the  whole  of  the  livelong  day, 
Andl'mtobe  Queen  o'  theMay,mother,I'mtobeQueeno'theMay. 

10. 
All  the  valley,  mother,  'ill  be  fresh  and  green  and  still, 
And  the  cowslip  and  the  crowfoot  are  over  all  the  hill, 
And  the  rivulet  in  the  flowery  dale  'ill  merrily  glance  and  play. 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 

11. 
So  you  must  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother  dear, 
To-morrow  'ill  be  the  happiest  time  of  all  the  glad  New-year  ; 
To-morrow  'ill  be,  of  all  the  year,  the  maddest,  merriest  day, 
For  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother,  I'm  to  be  Queen  o'  the  May. 

V. 

124.     THE    MAY    QUEEN. 

PAET  SECOND. 
1. 

IF  you're  waking,  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother  dear, 
For  I  would  see  the  sun  rise  upon  the  glad  New-year  : 
It  is  the  last  New-year  that  I  shall  ever  see, 
Then  you  may  lay  me  low  i'  the  mold,  and  think  no  more  of  me 


280 


NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 


To-night  I  saw  the  sun  set :  he  set,  and  left  behind 
The  good  old  year,  the  dear  old  time,  and  all  my  peace  of  mind ; 
And  the  New-year's  coming  up,  mother,  but  I  shall  never  see 
The  blossom  on  the  blackthorn,  the  leaf  upon  the  tree. 


Last  May  we  made  a  crown  of  flowers  :  we  had  a  merry  day ; 
Beneath  the  hawthorn  on  the  green  they  made  me  Queen  of  May; 
And  we  danced  about  the  May-pole  and  in  the  hazel  copse, 
Till  Charles's  Wain 1  came  out  above  the  tall  white  chimney-tops. 

4. 
There's  not  a  flower  on  all  the  hills  :  the  frost  is  on  the  pane  : 
I  only  wish  to  live  till  the  snowdrops  come  again  : 

1  "Wain,  a  carriage  on  wheels ;  a    a  constellation,  or  cluster  of  stars, 
wagon ;  Gha Hex's  Wain,  the  name  of    called  also  the  Dipper. 


THE    MAY    QUEEN.  281 

I  wish  the  snow  would  melt,  and  the  sun  come  out  on  high  : 
I  long  to  see  a  flower  so  before  the  day  I  die. 

5. 
The  building  rook  'ill  caw  from  the  windy,  tall  elm-tree, 
And  the  tufted  plover '  pipe  along  the  fallow  lea, 
And  the  swallow  'ill  come  back  again  with  summer  o'er  the  wave,— 
But  I  shall  He  alone,  mother,  within  the  mouldering  grave. 

6. 
Upon  the  chancel-casement,  and  upon  that  grave  of  mine, 
In  the  early,  early  morning,  the  summer  sun  'ill  shine, 
Before  the  red  cock  crows  from  the  barn  upon  the  hill, 
When  you  are  warm  asleep,  mother,  and  all  the  world  is  still. 

7. 
When  the  flowers  come  again,  mother,  beneath  the  waning  light, 
You'll  never  see  me  more  in  the  long,  gray  fields  at  night ; 
When  from  the  dry,  dark  wold2  the  summer  airs  blow  cool, 
On  the  oat-grass  and  the  sword-grass,  and  the  bulrush  in  the  pool. 

8. 
You'll  bury  me,  my  mother,  just  beneath  the  hawthorn  shade, 
And  you'll  come  sometimes  and  see  me  where  I  am  lowly  laid. 
I  shall  not  forget  you,  mother  ;  I  shall  hear  you  when  you  pass, 
With  your  feet  above  my  head  in  the  long  and  pleasant  grass. 

9. 
I  have  been  wild  and  wayward,  but  you'll  forgive  me  now  ; 
You'll  kiss  me,  my  own  mother,  upon  my  cheek  and  brow  : 
Nay,  nay,  you  must  not  weep,  nor  let  your  grief  be  wild, 
You  should  not  fret  for  me,  mother, — you  have  another  child. 

10. 
If  I  can  I'll  come  again,  mother,  from  out  my  resting-place  j 
Though  you'll  not  see  me,  mother,  I  shall  look  upon  your  face  ; 
Though  I  can  not  speak  a  word,  I  shall  hearken  what  you  say, 
And  be  often,  often  with  you,  when  you  think  I'm  far  away. 

11. 
Good-night,  good-night,  when  I  have  said  good-night  for  evermore, 
And  you  see  me  carried  out  from  the  threshold  of  the  door  ; 
Don't  let  Effie  come  to  see  me  till  my  grave  be  growing  green  : 
She'll  be  a  better  child  to  you  than  ever  I  have  been. 

i  Plover,  (pluV  er),  a .  water-fowl ;        2  Wold,  a  plain,  open  country  ? 
the  lapwing.  ridges  of  high  land. 


282  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

12. 

Shell  find  my  garden  tools  upon  the  granary  floor  : 
Let  her  take  them — they  are  hers — I  shall  never  garden  more  ; 
But  tell  her,  when  I'm  gone,  to  train  the  rose-bush  that  I  set 
About  the  parlor- window  and  the  box  of  mignonette.1 

13. 
Good-night,  sweet  mother  :  call  me  before  the  day  is  born. 
All  night  I  lie  awake,  but  I  fall  asleep  at  morn  ; 
But  I  would  see  the  sun  rise  upon  the  glad  New-year, 
So,  if  you're  waking,  call  me,  call  me  early,  mother  dear. 

VI. 

125.     THE    MAY    QUEEN. 

PAET  THIED. 

1. 

I  THOUGHT  to  pass  away  before,  and  yet  alive  I  am  ; 
And  in  the  fields  all  round  I  hear  the  bleating  of  the  lamb. 
How  sadly,  I  remember,  rose  the  morning  of  the  year ! 
To  die  before  the  snowdrop  came,  and  now  the  violet's  here. 

2. 
Oh  sweet  is  the  new  violet,  that  comes  beneath  the  skies, 
And  sweeter  is  the  young  lamb's  voice  to  me  that  can  not  rise, 
And  sweet  is  all  the  land  about,  and  all  the  flowers  that  blow, 
And  sweeter  far  is  death  than  life  to  me  that  long  to  go. 

3. 
It  seemed  so  hard  at  first,  mother,  to  leave  the  blessed  sun, 
And  now  it  seems  as  hard  to  stay  ;  and  yet,  His  will  be  done ! 
But  still  I  think  it  can't  be  long  before  I  find  release  ; 
And  that  good  man,  the  clergyman,  has  told  me  words  of  peace 

4. 
Oh,  blessings  on  his  kindly  voice,  and  on  his  silver  hair ! 
And  blessings  on.his  whole  life  long,  until  he  meet  me  there ! 
Oh,  blessings  on  his  kindly  heart,  and  on  his  silver  head ! 
A  thousand  times  I  blest  him  as  he  knelt  beside  my  bed. 

5. 
He  showed  me  all  the  mercy,  for  he  taught  me  all  the  sin  : 
Now,  though  my  lamp  was  lighted  late,  there's  One  will  let  me  in : 

1  Mignonette,  (mlnx  yo  net'),  a  plant  and  flower  prized  for  its  sweet  smell. 


THE    MAY    QUEEN. 


283 


Nor  would  I  now  be  well,  mother,  again,  if  that  could  be  ; 
For  my  desire  is  but  to  pass  to  Him  that  died  for  me. 

6. 
I  did  not  hear  the  dog  howl,  mother,  or  the  death-watch  !  beat, 
There  came  a  sweeter  token  when  the  night  and  morning  meet : 
But  sit  beside  my  bed,  mother,  and  put  your  hand  in  mine, 
And  Effie  on  the  other  side,  and  I  will  tell  the  sign. 


All  in  the  wild  March-morning  I  heard  the  angels  call ; 
It  was  when  the  moon  was  setting,  and  the  dark  was  over  all ; 
The  trees  "began  to  whisper,  and  the  wind  began  to  roll, 
And  in  the  wild  March-morning  I  heard  them  call  my  soul, 

8. 
For,  lying  broad  awake,  I  thought  of  you  and  Effie  dear ; 
I  saw  you  sitting  in  the  house,  and  I  no  longer  here  ; 
With  all  my  strength  I  prayed  for  both,  and  so  I  felt  resigned ; 
And  up  the  valley  came  a  swell  of  music  on  the  wind. 

1  Death-watch,  (deth'  w&tch),  a  I  tick  of  a  watch,  is  falsely  thought 
small  beetle,  whose  noise,  like  the    to  foretell  death. 


2S4  NATIONAL    THIRD    READER. 

9. 
I  thought  that  it  was  fancy,  and  I  listened  in  my  bed, 
And  then  did  something  speak  to  me  ;  I  know  not  what  was  said; 
For  great  delight  and  shuddering  took  hold  of  all  my  mind, 
And  up  the  valley  came  again  the  music  of  the  wind. 

10. 
But  you  were  sleeping ;  and  I  said,  "It's  not  for  them  :  it's  mine." 
And  if  it  comes  three  times,  I  thought,  I  take  it  for  a  sign. 
And  once  again  it  came,  and  close  beside  the  window-bars, 
Then  seemed  to  go  right  up  to  heaven,  and  die  among  the  stars. 

11. 
So  now  I  think  my  time  is  near.     I  trust  it  is.     I  know 
The  blessed  music  went  that  way  my  soul  will  have  to  go. 
And  for  myself,  indeed,  I  care  not  if  I  go  to-day; 
But,  Effie,  you  must  comfort  her  when  I  am  pass'd  away. 

12. 
And  say  to  Robin  a  kind  word,  and  tell  him  not  to  fret ; 
There's  many  worthier  than  I  would  make  him  happy  yet. 
If  I  had  lived — I  can  not  tell — I  might  have  been  his  wife  ; 
But  all  these  things  have  ceased  to  be,  with  my  desire  of  life. 

13. 
O  look !  the  sun  begins  to  rise,  the  heavens  are  in  a  glow, 
He  shines  upon  a  hundred  fields,  and  all  of  them  I  know. 
And  there  I  move  no  longer  now,  and  there  his  light  may  shine — ■ 
"Wild  flowers  in  the  valley  for  other  hands  than  mine. 

14. 
Oh,  sweet  and  strange  it  seems  to  me,  that  ere  this  day  is  done, 
The  voice  that  now  is  speaking  may  be  beyond  the  sun — 
Forever  and  forever  with  those  just  souls  and  true — 
And  what  is  life,  that  we  should  moan  ?  why  make  we  such  ado  ? 

15. 
Forever  and  forever,  all  in  a  blessed  home — 
And  there  to  wait  a  little  while  till  you  and  Efiie  come  ; 
To  he  within  the  light  of  God,  as  I  he  upon  your  breast — 
And  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest 

Alfbed  Tennyson. 


INDEX 

TO    WORDS    DEFINED,   AND    WORDS    PRONOUNCED. 

The  figures  refer  to  the  pages  where  the  words  are  to  be  found. 


A,  39.  Abbey,  173. 
Abdul-Kadir,  190. 
Absolute,  225. 
Absorbed,  54. 
Absurd,  60. 
Accomplished,  218. 
Accosted,  211. 
Accountable,  165. 
Accumulating,  23. 
Accusation,  127. 
Admirable,  135. 
Admonition,  110. 
Adorning,  49,  72. 
Advancing,  67. 
Adversary,  222. 
Advertise,  155. 
Affection,  82. 
Affronted,  57. 
Again,  52. 
Agent,  167. 
Agility,  88. 
Agony,  53. 
Alert,  86. 
Algeria,  217. 
Allah,  224.  Ali,  124. 
Allot,  121. 
Allure,  113. 
Alms,  218. 
Amazement,  225. 
Ambitious,  92. 
Amends,  232. 
Amiable,  114. 
Amusement,  124. 
Ancient,  224. 
Anecdote,  43. 
Anguish,  97. 
Annoy,  76. 
Answered,  42. 
Antelope,  126. 
Anthem,  49,  107. 
Anticipating,  189. 
Anticipation,  125. 
Antics,  148. 
Apartment,  114. 
Apostle,  196. 
Apparent,  243. 
Application,  113. 
Apprenticeship,  61. 
Approbation,  79. 
Arab,  217. 
Ardent,  82. 
Armory,  76. 
Around,  175. 
Arrested,  107. 
Artifice,  240. 
Askance,  78. 
Aspect,  86. 
Asserted,  80,  219. 
Associate,  188. 


Associates,  82. 
Astonished,  138. 
Astonishment,  86. 
Asylum,  275. 
Athletic,  113. 
Attire,  45,  82. 
Attract,  82. 
Auburn,  257. 
Authority,  108. 
Autumn,  55. 
Avalanche,  246. 
Aversion,  151. 
Avoid,  81. 
Award,  222. 
Aware,  188. 
Away,  198. 
Aye,  159. 
Babble,  171. 
Bagdad,  190. 
Bale-fires,  244. 
Barb,  252. 
Barcn,  134. 
Barrier,  260. 
Bath,  112.    Bay,  43. 
Beacon,  200. 
Beaming,  50. 
Bearing,  49. 
Bedew,  266. 
Been,  39. 
Belated,  250. 
Beldam,  225. 
Benefactor,  62,  133. 
Bequeathed,  62. 
Bereaved,  112. 
Bernard,  St.,  246. 
Bewilderment,  263. 
Bicker,  171. 
Bird,  138. 
Bird-lime,  238. 
Blast,  64. 
Bleak,  141. 
Blended,  78. 
Blenheim,  216. 
Blight,  102. 
Bliss,  177. 
Blithely,  51. 
Blither,  100. 
Boisterous,  39. 
Bonaparte,  178. 
Book  of  God,  53. 
Boon,  145,  167. 
Bosom,  263. 
Bou-Akas,  217. 
Bough,  44. 
Bounteous,  76. 
Bourn,  210. 
Brief,  47. 
Brimming,  172. 
Brinded,  270. 


Burlier,  254. 
Burn,  42. 
Bush,  150. 
Cjssar,  178 
Calamus-root,  197. 
Can't,  39,  66. 
Capable,  83. 
Caper,  154. 
Capsized,  193. 
Caravan,  52. 
Care,  142. 
Career,  93. 
Caress,  154. 
Carrion,  151. 
Castle,  71. 
Cataract,  119. 
Catkin,  48. 
Catastrophe,  256. 
Caution,  39. 
Cawing,  48. 
Chagrin,  92. 
Challenge,  196. 
Chanted,  106. 
Charity,  62. 
Chat,  63. 
Cheerily,  51. 
Cheerless,  70. 
Cherished,  45. 
Chesterfield,  90. 
Chivalry,  40. 
Choir,  210. 
Chorus,  148. 
Cintra,  169. 
Circumstance,  88. 
Civility,  231. 
Clarion,  246. 
Club-foot,  90. 
Coin,  220. 
Colony,  149. 
Columbus,  178. 
Combined,  40. 
Comic,  150. 
Committing,  113. 
Compassionating,  89 
Compensate,  212. 
Competition,  80. 
Compliment,  111. 
Composure,  44. 
Comrade,  98. 
Confiscate,  225. 
Conceive,  139. 
Conference,  269. 
Confidential,  269. 
Confounded,  212. 
Conned,  108. 
Conjecture,  268. 
Conscience,  63, 110. 
Conscious,  84. 
Consideration,  189. 


Console,  108. 
Consort,  265. 
Conspiring,  209. 
Constellation,  259. 
Contemptuously  196 
Convulsed,  79. 
Coot,  171. 
Coronet,  133. 
Corpse,  263. 
Counselor,  89. 
Counterfeited,  240. 
Courtier,  225. 
Coveted,  179. 
Craft,  227. 
Creature,  46. 
Cresses,  172. 
Cresting,  147. 
Crevice,  124. 
Crisis,  79. 
Critical,  97. 
Criticised,  61. 
Crocus,  51. 
Croft,  210. 
Cubit,  117. 
Cunning,  157. 
Curiosity,  238. 
Curveting,  270. 
Dairy-house,  119. 
Dame,  64. 
Data,  273. 
Death-watch,  283. 
Decked,  140. 
Declare,  191. 
Deficiency,  231. 
Deficient,  79. 
Deformed,  46. 
Delicacies,  68. 
Delicate,  49. 
Delighted,  138. 
Dell,  137. 
Demeaning,  272. 
Deportment,  272. 
Deposited,  155, 196 
Depot,  184. 
Descry,  64. 
Desertion,  86. 
Deserts,  52. 
Design,  88. 
Desolate,  256. 
Desolation,  268. 
Despair,  107. 
Despicable,  91. 
Despised,  137. 
Despite,  250. 
Despond,  122. 
Despondency,  275, 
Despotic,  217. 
Destiny,  202. 
Detestation,  272. 


286 


INDEX    TO    WORDS. 


Detested,  151. 
Deviate,  129. 
Device,  247. 
Devised,  113. 
Devolved,  81. 
Dexterity,  223. 
Diffused,  271. 
Dilated,  96. 
Diligence,  88. 
Diminution,  261. 
Dimpled,  175. 
Directly,  92. 
Discerned,  116. 
Discontent,  51. 
Discussion,  60. 
Disdain,  58. 
Disgust,  46. 
Disgusted,  61. 
Dispatched,  68. 
Dissipated,  271. 
Disperse,  100. 
Dispersed,  182. 
Dissuaded,  253. 
Distinguished,  78. 
Distorted,  219. 
Divan,  118. 
Docile,  218. 
Docility,  88. 
Documents,  89. 
Doled,  62,  88. 
Dolorous,  151. 
Domain,  244. 
Domination,  226. 
Dominion,  225. 
Dost,  45. 
Doting,  226. 
Drama,  256. 
Draught,  124. 
Drear,  107. 
Drought,  267. 
Druids,  238. 
Ducat,  130. 
Dunce,  56. 
Dupe,  117. 
Dwarfish,  124. 
Early,  42. 
Earnestly,  42. 
Ebon,  57. 
Eccentricity,  273. 
Elasticity,  127. 
Elate,121.  Elder,39. 
Element,  58. 
Eloquence,  115. 
Elude,  88. 
Emaciated,  274. 
Embarrassment,  79. 
Emblem,  120,  276. 
Eminent,  111. 
Emulation,  80. 
Enamored,  264. 
Endeavoring,  69. 
■*    England,  192. 
Enhance,  266. 
Enthusiastic,  87. 
Enthusiasm,  275. 


Envied,  59. 
Envious,  91. 
Environed,  161. 
Envy,  80. 
Equipage,  93. 
Equitably,  222. 
Espied,  55. 
Estate,  227. 
Estimable,  233. 
Eternal,  267. 
Evidence,  82. 
Excellence,  80. 
Excelsior,  246. 
Excited,  60. 
Excursion,  192. 
Exemplary,  272. 
Exhausted,  260. 
Exhibited,  47. 
Expectant,  216. 
Experience,  109, 204 
Expert,  89. 
Exquisite,  126. 
Exquisitely,  273. 
Extra,  128. 
Extraordinary,  88. 
Eyrie,  236. 
Fable,  54. 
Faculties,  58. 
Fagot,  63. 
Fair  46.  Fairy,  142 
Faith,  51. 
Falchion,  246. 
Falcon,  153. 
Fallow,  171. 
Faltered,  79. 
Faltering,  157. 
Familiar,  154. 
Fancy,  208. 
Fawn,  96.  Fee,  161. 
Fenny,  242. 
Ferocious,  154. 
Fervent,  160. 
Festival,  50. 
Fickle,  60. 
Fieldfare,  149. 
Filial,  257. 
Flattered,  175. 
Fissure,  124. 
Flaunting,  45. 
Flavor,  126. 
Florin,  132. 
Floundering,  262. 
Flush,  170. 
Foliage,  143. 
Folios,  277. 
Forehead,  101. 
Foreland,  171. 
Forest,  50. 
Forfeited,  195. 
Forlorn,  89,  107. 
Fortune,  61. 
Foster-mother,  113. 
Foxglove,  142. 
Fragrance,  46. 
Franklin,  168. 


Fraud,  170. 
Freakish,  77. 
Frugal,  228. 
Fruitage,  169. 
Fruits,  54,  164. 
Furlong,  100. 
Furniture,  86. 
Fustian,  161. 
Galling,  129. 
Gamboling,  96. 
Gaudy,  45. 
Gaunt,  159. 
Generation,  189. 
Generosity,  83. 
Generous,  90. 
Genial,  75,  200. 
Genius,  117. 
Genteel,  138. 
Germ,  200. 
Glacier,  246. 
Glades,  77. 
Glare,  126. 
Gleam,  141. 
Glen,  137. 
Glistened,  177. 
Gloaming,  176. 
Gloom,  172. 
Gnat,  47, 
Goblet,  130. 
Gone,  142. 
Gossip,  60. 
Gothic,  276. 
Granary,  210. 
Grandeur,  161. 
Grass,  138. 
Gratitude,  48. 
Grayling,  172. 
Grew,  45. 
Grotesque,  150. 
Group,  102. 
Grove,  50. 
Gurgling,  77. 
Habitually,  83. 
Hackled,  201. 
Half,  55. 
Hamadan,  190. 
Hamlet,  173. 
Hapless,  217. 
Hard  by,  216.  • 
Hardv,  39.  Hare,{ 
Haughty,  56. 
Haughtily,  71. 
Haunted,  268. 
Haunts,  137. 
Hawking,  242. 
Heard,  39. 
Hearth,  83. 
Heath,  142. 
Hector,  59. 
Hedge,  100. 
Heir,  43. 
Heirdom,  235. 
Helm,  59. 
'Herds,  198. 
Heritage,  161. 


Hern,  171. 
Heroes,  178. 
Hesitation,  86,  222. 
Hind,.  163. 
Hither,  220. 
Ho ary-h aired,  60. 
Homely,  46. 
Homer,  243. 
Hoof,  336. 
Horizon,  343,  26S. 
Horn  of  Plenty,  59. 
Hospitable,  64. 
Host,  355. 
Housed,  194. 
Hovel,  69.  Hue, 310. 
Humanity,  131. 
Humble,  46. 
Hurrah,  193. 
Husbandman,  163. 
Idol,  104 
Illustration,  136. 
Illustrious,  189. 
Imagination,  204. 
Imbibed,  114,  197. 
Imminent,  194. 
Immoral,  195. 
Impertinent,  196. 
Implore,  63. 
Impotent,  160. 
Impression,  92. 
Imprisoned,  140. 
Impudence,  61. 
Impulsive,  108. 
Incantation,  238, 272 
Incensed,  132. 
Incident,  87. 
Incident,  The,  249. 
Inclement,  64. 
Indian  Boys,  136. 
Indication,  114. 
Indolence,  41. 
Induce,  132. 
Industry,  87.' 
Inevitable,  257. 
Infallible,  84,  219. 
Infatuation,  117. 
Infernal,  227. 
Infinitely,  204. 
Infirm,  194. 
Infirmities,  62. 
Infirmity,  81. 
Inflamed,  211. 
Inflexible,  269. 
Inflicted,  127. 
Infuse,  263. 
Ingenuous,  167. 
Inherit,  161. 
Inheritance,  190. 
Injunction,  109. 
Inquisitive,  152. 
Inscribed,  203. 
Inscrutable,  272. 
Insensibility,  260. 
Insensible,  191. 
Insidious,  116- 


INDEX    TO    WORDS. 


287 


Inspiration,  222. 

Instinctively,  90. 

Instrument,  150. 

Insurmountable260 

Integrity,  189. 

Intelligence,  89. 

Intense,  97. 

Intercept,  97. 

Interminable,  89. 

Interminably,  260. 

Intermission, '261. 

Interval,  79. 

Intimacy,  228. 

Intonations,  114. 

Intrusively,  120. 

Invalid,  69. 

Investigated,  269. 

Investigation,  87. 

Invisible,  205. 

Irreverently,  134. 

Irrigate,  182. 

Israel,  53.  Issue,200 

Jasmine,  105. 

Jaunty,  149. 

Jeers,  62. 

Jeopardy,  236. 

Jew,  Tbe  Wander- 
ing, 269. 

Jokes,  63.   Joily,50. 

Jovial,  150. 

Judicious,  113. 
Kahn,  225. 
Kalmia,  136. 
Knight,  71,  225. 
Laburnum,  198. 
Lack-a-dai  sical  ,152. 
Laconic,  276. 
Lamented,  140. 
Landscape,  161. 
Languidly,  72. 
Last,  205. 
Launch,  142. 
Laudable,  87. 
Lave,  197. 
Lavished,  114. 
Lawn,  172. 
Lea,  136.  Legal,  89 
Legend,  224. 
Lethargy,  274. 
Levee,  92. 
Liquid,  51. 
Listening,  53. 
Listless,  67. 
Livingston,  181. 
Locksmith,  62. 
Loitered,  71. 
Long,  198. 
Loyal,  226. 
Lucid,  259. 
Luminous,  122. 
Luscious,  125. 
Luster,  104. 
Luxuriant,  189. 
Luxury,  103. 
Ma'am,  46. 


Machination,  227. 

Magnanimous,  90. 

Magnificent,  91. 

Maiden,  47. 

Malice,  134. 

Mallow,  171. 

Mamma,  156. 

Mane,  60. 

Mangled,  249. 

Mansion,  132. 

Marine,  242. 

Marion,  251. 

Marl-pit,  242. 

Marsh,  132. 

Marshaled,  75. 

Mart,  200. 

Matron,  270. 

Mattock,  257. 

Maturing  209. 

Maxim,  195. 

Maze,  170. 

Mead,  109. 

Meadow,  51. 

Measure,  177. 

Meditate,  204. 

Meditating,  127. 

Meekly   129. 

Melancholy,  176. 
Melodious,  149. 
Memorial,  167. 
Meridian,  123, 
Merriment,  192. 
Mighty,  224. 
Mignonette,  282. 
Mimic,  143. 
•Minnows,  197. 
Minster,  99. 
Minstrelsy,  57. 
Mirrored,  106. 
Misanthrope,  269. 
Miser,  62. 
Mistletoe,  238. 
Moaning,  106. 
Mock-heroically  151 
Mold,  45. 
Monarch,  224. 
Monitorship,  80. 
Monitory,  200. 
Monotonous,  147. 
Moor,  64,  98. 
Moorland,  256. 
Moping,  66. 
Morass,  251. 
Mortal,  209. 
Moth,  42. 
Mourner,  52. 
Mournful,  140. 
Mufti,  117. 
Museum,  91. 
Musician,  138. 
Mussulman,  123. 
Mute,  262. 
Myriads,  255. 
Myrtle,  104. 
Mysterious,  268. 


Mystery,  250. 

Nature,  39. 

Necromancy,  273. 

Nectar,  59,  120. 

Negligence,  164. 

Neptune,  241. 

Nestled,  158. 

Newton,  178. 

Niggardliness,  230. 

Nocturnal,  148. 

None,  75.  Nook,  56. 

Nothing,  42,  182. 

Nursery,  165. 

Obedience,  109. 

Obligations,  167. 

Obliterated,  258. 

Obscure,  62. 

Observation,  80. 

Obstinacy,  270. 

Obstinate,  270. 

Occurred,  87. 

Odious,  124. 

Often,  45. 

Opponent,  220. 

Opportunity,  82. 

Oppressed,  112. 

Optical,  243. 

Orchard,  163. 

Ordeal,  270. 

Oriental,  177. 

Original,  220. 

Orison,  275. 

Ornament,  133,141. 

Orphan,  114. 

Outlandish,  268. 
Page,  130. 
Palace,  224. 
Pall,  126. 
Pallid,  64. 
Papa,  156. 
Parent,  84. 
Parish,  71. 
Park,  56. 
Parley,  116. 
Paroquets,  148. 
Path,  64. 
Pathetic,  151. 
Pathless,  43. 
Peasant,  219. 
Peat,  256. 
Peculiar,  203. 
Peewee,  197. 
Penalty,  158. 
Penetrate,  269. 
Pensioners,  132. 
Penury,  115. 
Perfume,  177. 
Peri,  117.   Peril,  40. 
Period,  61. 
Pernicious,  234. 
Perplexity,  263. 
Persevere,  87. 
Persia,  224. 
Perpetrate,  226. 
Perpetual,  195. 


Pert,143.  Petal,137. 
Petition,  131. 
Phantom,  123, 
Philanthropy,  274. 
Philosopher,  50. 
Pied,  148. 
Pilgrim,  71. 
Pilgrimage,  122. 
Pillared,  141. 
Placid.  175. 
Placidly,  107. 
Plaintive,  143. 
Plantation,  120. 
Plaudit,  115. 
Plover,  281. 
Plume,  144. 
Plumes,  59. 
Plundered,  190. 
Poise,  197. 
Polar,  184. 
Politeness,  195. 
Pollute,  116. 
Pondered,  126. 
Popularity,  93. 
Populous,  192. 
Poring,  89. 
Posterity,  167- 
Poultry,  155. 
Pounce,  155. 
Precedence,  219. 
Precious,  187. 
Preceptress,  79. 
Predatory,  76. 
Predecessor,  228. 
Predominated,  274. 
Preeminently,  151. 
Pretty,  60. 
Prey,  42. 
Primrose,  48. 
Principle,  83. 
Prithee,  72. 
Prodigiously,  268. 
Produce,  188. 
Profession,  87. 
Profound,  268. 
Progress,  204. 
Prompted,  66. 
Prone,  254. 
Propitious,  274. 
Propped,  164. 
Proscribed,  271. 
Prospect,  224. 
Protection,  114. 
Providential,  88. 
Prudent,  63. 
Puny,  124. 
Purple,  45. 
Purse,  42. 
Putrescent,  152. 
Quadruped,  58,  200. 
Quaint,  148. 
Quandary,  271.        £. 
Quest,  261.  w 

Quotes,  144.      ^ 
Quoth,  216.       •         • 


?> 


288 


tNDEX    TO    WORDS. 


Radiance,  000 . 
Rancorous,  271. 
Random,  200. 
Rankled,  79. 
Rapacious,  155. 
Rapturous,  115. 
Raze,  225. 
Recess,  111. 
Recital,  157. 
Recognition,  263. 
Recognized,  139. 
Recompensed,  131 
Reconcile,  157. 
Recurred,  108. 
Recriminate,  271. 
Redoubtable,  270. 
Redress,  211. 
Reflecting,  105. 
Reflection,  92. 
Refrain,  151. 
Regality,  236. 
Relics,  242. 
Reluctantly,  67. 
Remunerate,  189. 
Repentance,  192. 
Replete,  75. 
Reproach,  40. 
Reproved,  134. 
Reputation,  268. 
Residue,  193. 
Response,  67. 
Restitution,  192. 
Restoration,  219. 
Resumed,  79. 
Retailing,  195. 
Reveals,  80. 
Reverently,  44. 
Reverence,  195, 197. 
Reverted,  193. 
Reveled,  125. 
Reuben,  127. 
Rhinoceros,  184. 
Ridiculous,  40. 
Rivals,80.  Rite,238. 
Rivulet,  216. 
Roe,  100.  . 
Romantic,  56. 
Rook,  48. 
Root,  45,  238. 
Roseate,  170. 
Rout,  216. 
Ruddy,  244. 
Ruffles,  73. 
Ruined,  211. 
Rustic,  196. 
Ruth,  209. 
Sagacity,  261. 
Sagacious,  270. 
Saints,  190. 
Sully,  171. 
Sallows,  210. 
Santee,  252. 
Sated,  162. 
Satisfaction,  202. 
Satirist,  143. 


Sa*yr.  U7. 
Saucy,  229. 
Saviour,  42. 
Scanned,  114. 
Scandalously,  195. 
Scarcely,  73,  99. 
Scarlet,  45. 
Scavengers,  151. 
Scope,  69. 
Score,  161. 
Scorn,  225. 
Season,  55. 
Sect,  190. 
Seduction,  121. 
Semicircular,  85. 
Sensitive,  127. 
Sensual,  93. 
Sentimental,  151. 
Sepulcher,  104. 
Sequestered,  106. 
Seraph,  108. 
Serene,  247. 
Serrated,  45. 
Servile,  89. 
Sewing,  67. 
Shaft,  147. 
Sharps,  171. 
Shingly,  172. 
Shocking,  217. 
Shunammite,  209. 
Simpering,  177. 
Site,  224.    Sleet,  64. 
Slight,  44. 
Slightingly,  195. 
Slope,  208. 
Sloth,  161. 
Snare,  153. 
Snatch,  143. 
Snipped,  139. 
Soaring,  47. 
Sobriety,  87. 
Sociability,  233. 
Sons,  190. 
Soft,  200. 
Softly,  175. 
Sojourner,  169. 
Solemnity,  114. 
Solicitude,  268. 
Solitude,  101. 
Solitary,  114. 
Spectral,  246. 
Speculation,  272. 
Spies,  72. 
Spheres,  108. 
Splendid,  137. 
Splendor,  176. 
Spoil,  192. 
Spray,  73. 
Spy,  98. 

Squandered,  61. 
Squatters,  151. 
Statesmen,  178. 
Stature,  117. 
Stifled,  45. 
Stoic,  272. 


Store,  128. 
Strew,  49. 
Stupid,  55. 
Stunted,  124. 
Subdued,  159. 
Subsistence,  61. 
Subtlety,  117. 
Suburbs,  84. 
Sufliced,  88. 
Suffused,  79. 
Sulky,  138. 
Superannuated, 131. 
Superstition,  273. 
Supple,  44. 
Sure,  50,  66. 
Suspicion,  270. 
Swath,  210. 
Sympathized,  79. 
Sympathy,  68. 
Taciturnity,  269. 
Talisman,  273. 
Tantrum,  270.      . 
Tauntingly,  227. 
Tedious,  124. 
Teem,  176. 
Temporal,  87. 
Temptation,  109. 
Tenement,  68. 
Terminates,  167. 
Terrified,  194. 
Testimonial,  196. 
The,lll.  Their,198. 
Therefore,  66. 
Threw,  39. 
Throng,  143. 
Through,  45. 
Thorp,  171. 
Threshold,  159. 
Thyme,  141. 
Titled,  56. 
Tiny,  45. 
Tocsin,  244. 
Token,  122. 
Tomb,  64. 
Torpor,  264. 
Tortoise,  54. 
Toward,  72. 
Tradition,  277. 
Transitory,  200. 
Tranquillity,  268. 
Transmit,  167. 
Transporting,  124. 
Traverse,  145. 
Treasurer,  132. 
Treason,  227. 
Treble,  171. 
Tremendous,  194. 
Trepidation,  194. 
Tribunal,  219. 
Tribute,  75,  174. 
Truth,  40,  191. 
Turf,  104. 
Turmoil,  268. 
Turnspit,  271. 
Twain,  107. 


Twilight,  141. 
Twitters,  73. 
Tyranny,  114. 
Ugly,  46. 
Uncanny,  152. 
Underplots,  256. 
Unmingled,  50. 
Unison,  79. 
Universal,  148. 
Unpopular,  82. 
Unsullied,  121. 
Unseemly,  226. 
Unreluctant,  175. 
Urchin,  109. 
Vacant,  81. 
Vagaries,  274. 
Veil,  254. 
Velvet,  161. 
Venerable,  86,  193 
Venison,  228. 
Venomous,  271 . 
Verdurous,  170. 
Vestures,  50. 
Veteran,  196. 
Vexation,  92. 
Vicious,  232. 
Vigorous,  83. 
Vineyard,  142. 
Visage,  274. 
Vitality,  118. 
Volley,  192. 
Voluble,  143. 
Voluntarily,  92. 
Wafted,  260. 
Wain,  280. 
Walnut,  50. 
Wand,  44. 
Wanton,  100. 
Warbled,  78. 
Was,  43,  198. 
Washed,  69. 
Wasted,  217. 
Wealthy,  41. 
Wherefore,  70. 
Whim,  85. 
Whistle,  92. 
Wigwam,  136. 
Wilderness,  52. 
Wily,  116. 
Wizard,  272. 
Wold,  281. 
Woman,  223. 
Womanish,  40. 
Wont,  123. 
Wot,  224. 
World.  43. 
Wounded,  249. 
Wrath,  211. 
Wrong,  229. 
Wroth,  117. 
Yearned,  112. 
Yore,  197. 
You,  39.    Your,  64. 
Youth,  107. 
Zoological,  148. 


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